tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29665102956371214152012-02-16T16:16:41.436-08:00poetry by ctCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.comBlogger281100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-46283899381747812412009-02-02T01:37:00.000-08:002009-02-02T01:47:42.262-08:00as clap traps snap<div>so the noses turn up</div><div>sniffing and twitching against the</div><div>deep tissue burn of coal dust</div><div>blackened catfish sliding</div><div>down blackened throats</div><div><br /></div><div>a frailty experiment!</div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">glees</span> the respected scientist</div><div>mister <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">robert</span> h. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">madgin</span></div><div>most respected of his class</div><div>most lauded of his family</div><div>most eligible bachelor 1972</div><div><br /></div><div>as the earth churns and spins</div><div>their skins will stretch and polish</div><div>in just such a beautiful way!</div><div>yanked taut over tensile sinew</div><div>till the veins and throbs hold</div><div>straight through the men's slumber</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-4628389938174781241?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-22497958549356544602008-12-06T06:43:00.000-08:002008-12-06T06:49:55.448-08:00crackling against the divide<div>when the sirens come to call</div><div>striving amidst the contrived</div><div>when lemmings keep dropping to hell</div><div><br /></div><div>thumping by water shores</div><div>and swirling in deep deep</div><div>five alarm fire sirens sweep</div><div>where the legends are all asleep</div><div><br /></div><div>swooning horns and sweet reed harps</div><div>swing a soulful tune</div><div>harkening back to those days of old</div><div>when home was true for you</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-2249795854935654460?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-9777184343780245882008-12-05T08:05:00.000-08:002008-12-05T08:14:50.235-08:00how do despots rule the day?<div>how do they fire their whole array?</div><div>why do the fireworks bomb away?</div><div>when scurrilous warlords swing and sway?</div><div><br /></div><div>where is the man who minds the keep</div><div>so sure that evils have no leak</div><div>by which to exploit the armaments deep</div><div>and to see those damnable warlords meek</div><div><br /></div><div>fervor and bloodshed comes with the slough</div><div>as men shoot shot and mind the cows</div><div>while women turn in shameful bows</div><div>there is no life for commons now.</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-977718434378024588?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-77078480029876665702008-11-14T01:56:00.001-08:002008-11-14T02:01:54.485-08:00vagaries where the sun hits salt<div>lying under the crest</div><div>cause madmen run like</div><div>fires and diamonds</div><div><br /></div><div>it's hard for darker</div><div>snacks to catch</div><div>shine the light on</div><div>them and they catch all</div><div>the heat like the inside</div><div>of a mazda 626</div><div>cigarette burns and smell</div><div>when you want to get home</div><div>hanging in the air</div><div>on the way to your marine bungalow</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-7707848002987666570?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-78043154930247260122008-11-11T01:34:00.000-08:002008-11-11T01:38:41.215-08:00empty as heads and<div>souls upon the mauritania</div><div>clawing for earnest winnings</div><div>as the rearing black boar</div><div>circles in a way to</div><div>enhance effervescent dread</div><div><br /></div><div>standing tall as</div><div>cunning, swirled brass</div><div>twist up like a lash of</div><div>eucalyptus, whole time</div><div>foiled with the </div><div>dirty and sinful way</div><div><br /></div><div>marker stop, point, point</div><div>fervor over miami</div><div>moon over manhattan crying</div><div>scheck crossed up on the</div><div>back of the broadway through</div><div><br /></div><div>marvel at blackbeard</div><div>churning the souls</div><div>water bottle bedpan boils the soup</div><div>and whenever forever</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-7804315493024726012?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-17332570159165086392008-10-26T08:11:00.000-07:002008-10-26T08:39:02.379-07:00this is where i live<div>i won't be cut short</div><div>ringing in my ears when i</div><div>trot down the lane</div><div><br /></div><div>how're you doing now</div><div>under cerulean skies</div><div>a whiffle ball bat</div><div>and a potato sack</div><div>a ragamuffin's best friend</div><div><br /></div><div>simple pleasures</div><div>in the crook of a small town</div><div>there's no joy greater</div><div>than stargazing from where you're known</div><div><br /></div><div>i'll make my own way</div><div>strident as i'll be</div><div>firing all your shots at once</div><div>a depleted soul you'll be</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-1733257015916508639?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-16706731029022691252008-10-14T19:44:00.000-07:002008-10-14T20:33:30.190-07:00<div>subterranean aquarium</div><div>that i don't live in</div><div>but i'd sure like to</div><div>all backlit with pleasant, soft</div><div>warming colors</div><div>stringrays against dim purple hue</div><div>sharks doused in amber</div><div>i'll sleep in a studio bedroom </div><div>near the entrance</div><div>on a thin flat mattress</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-1670673102902269125?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-11064442741268841162008-10-11T16:54:00.000-07:002008-10-11T17:09:11.350-07:00mary noticed her boyfriend had a habit<div>whenever they went to a restaurant he'd sit</div><div>facing the door, lazily glancing out the window every few minutes.</div><div>mary's boyfriend was a well intentioned bore,</div><div>kind and attractive, but thoroughly unstimulating.</div><div>mary began to imagine, for fun, that he was a spy.</div><div>maybe he sat facing the door to spot would-be</div><div>assassins who would kill him</div><div>or even worse, kill her.</div><div>she felt safe, though, with her super spy boyfriend.</div><div>she decided to test him</div><div>by unscrewing the top of the</div><div>salt shaker while he was in the bathroom.</div><div>if he could steal government secrets and dispatch </div><div>invisible, spy-like justice,</div><div>surely he'd diffuse her attempt at sodium sabotage.</div><div>she began to regret her decision five minutes later,</div><div>when he left the diner displeased</div><div>a hamburger left on his plate with a small mountain of salt</div><div>on top, the upper bun discarded. </div><div>though she apologized later that night,</div><div>the relationship was over.</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-1106444274126884116?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-13328612741598415222008-10-11T16:51:00.000-07:002008-10-11T16:54:13.142-07:00a kid with wobbly knees is<div>seated at the edge of a swimming pool.</div><div>he's sitting at the deep end</div><div>even though he can't swim.</div><div>his mom is worried about him falling in</div><div>but he can feel the rough spackle</div><div>between the terra cotta tiles</div><div>on the bottoms of his fingers.</div><div>he knows he's not going anywhere.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-1332861274159841522?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-3741573761691775862008-10-07T05:29:00.000-07:002008-10-07T05:35:05.023-07:00feeling and remember sitting<div>in a steel city with a </div><div>nighttime kick in the air</div><div>not a terrible lotta</div><div>privacy out here</div><div>under a dull black sky</div><div>pocked with clouds, rusty glow</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-374157376169177586?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-14779111277897674852008-09-25T15:34:00.000-07:002008-09-25T15:41:39.570-07:00i love you<div>through and through</div><div>i'd like to hold your hand for an hour</div><div>kiss you for two</div><div>followed by lovemaking of deliberately indeterminate length</div><div>so to force us to clear our calendars for one another.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-1477911127789767485?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-21198062759220722072008-09-16T22:37:00.000-07:002008-09-16T22:50:02.856-07:00forever fighting oddities<div>against pulsing pastel backgrounds</div><div>where young men win</div><div>old men love</div><div>and the middle man gets cut up</div><div>and shot down</div><div>slide a bullet in and </div><div>shoot the messenger</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-2119806275922072207?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-27426490782794512412008-09-11T04:48:00.000-07:002008-09-11T05:14:09.752-07:00how can it be<div>my love is fading</div><div>as it follows my hair</div><div>to shades of grey</div><div><br /></div><div>i have friends</div><div>who know how to make their way</div><div>but when does the sun</div><div>break through for me</div><div><br /></div><div>there must be some</div><div>waves that crash on</div><div>shores where lovers</div><div>are never found</div><div>too wild and rough to tread</div><div><br /></div><div>life has split me</div><div>between faith and fear</div><div>i can't even bear</div><div>to face the choice</div><div><br /></div><div>should i believe</div><div>in a valorous decree</div><div>to love humanity</div><div>despite the stains</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-2742649078279451241?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-26469291207335270102008-09-02T06:04:00.000-07:002008-09-02T06:06:24.294-07:00slumping in the tub<div>filling up your head</div><div>lines off the page</div><div>feel more comfortable</div><div>when you're less comfortable</div><div>the thing is to keep your head down</div><div>keep your eyes tired</div><div>keep your waist trim</div><div>live long and lean as a loser</div><div>and do all your reading by candlelight</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-2646929120733527010?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-80382338847416801392008-09-01T03:07:00.000-07:002008-09-01T03:09:46.827-07:00frank cauley stands at the back<div>of a line that stretches alllllll</div><div>             the way round</div><div>the supermarket </div><div>that crisp and cool morning in boston, ma</div><div>he is up earlier than normal</div><div>he feels tired and</div><div>disjointed from the images and men and women</div><div>moving all around them</div><div>he entreats you to sleep</div><div>the way he wishes he was right now</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-8038233884741680139?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-72783694760241026852008-08-28T01:20:00.000-07:002008-08-28T01:22:31.721-07:00where stinging silence ropes the ear<div>seducing like you know it is</div><div>it's easy to put up now</div><div>feigned and trite solemnity</div><div>burn it up, say what</div><div>and load it into the truck</div><div>try to remember feeding the ducks</div><div>and pretend you still give an everloving fuck</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-7278369476024102685?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-9095571571357650232008-08-28T01:10:00.001-07:002008-08-28T01:20:49.755-07:00where the hard line drops<div>between have and have nots</div><div>where the grey old drake</div><div>always takes the cake</div><div>where cinnamon stars</div><div>over opium bars</div><div>swirl long and loose</div><div>we got a lot to do</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-909557157135765023?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-85601186230967625112008-08-25T16:30:00.000-07:002008-08-25T16:35:29.395-07:00vibrato sliding and sliding and sliding<div>with a swing song so sweet</div><div>lots to love</div><div>where markers shine above</div><div>tracing sightlines through the sky</div><div>reminds you of when you were young</div><div>don't it?</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-8560118623096762511?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-55980084966282368062008-08-23T19:13:00.000-07:002008-08-23T19:16:47.399-07:00voices sank low<div>when bing entered the room</div><div>he didn't have any shoes on</div><div>and he had dirty feet, gunk crusted</div><div>you been slogging through the marsh</div><div>the home's master asked</div><div>the reply being a dismissive</div><div>i know, right?</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-5598008496628236806?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-14560899677345764332008-08-22T22:04:00.000-07:002008-08-22T22:18:08.039-07:00greenhouses spout soot<div>while headboards rock in sync</div><div>with toying harmony</div><div>zip zap zop</div><div>throwing turvy tops</div><div>when the magic's flushed the room</div><div>corks popping under happy bulbs</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-1456089967734576433?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-21687526513252196502008-08-14T01:49:00.000-07:002008-08-14T01:51:52.724-07:00snow cone caps<div>rifling along loudly</div><div>rolling down, down</div><div>where the christ stamp</div><div>is pressed against the inkpad</div><div>but left to dry out,</div><div>unused</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-2168752651325219650?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-56157391812927223952008-08-13T22:01:00.000-07:002008-08-13T22:04:55.872-07:00sitting on the docks in the dead of night<div><br /></div><div>hand holding under cold shoulders</div><div><br /></div><div>with reeds rushing and brackish</div><div><br /></div><div>vapors sliding you backwards</div><div><br /></div><div>to feeding ducks and playground trucks</div><div><br /></div><div>running and swimming laps</div><div><br /></div><div>the curious glow of lights under lampshade</div><div><br /></div><div>surrounding you, dialing up loves long past</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-5615739181292722395?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-64255298951166393132008-08-13T06:39:00.000-07:002008-08-13T06:45:23.033-07:00my most memorable dreams aren't pretty<div>i have but fleeting remembrance of the horrors</div><div>they are not explosive, climatic, eruptive or disruptive</div><div>they do not, rest assured, make good stories</div><div>it's the simple smokestack against the full moon night</div><div>before you dive through a slide made of jagged metal cans</div><div>it's the way the sun peeks over the hills</div><div>rendering the world oddly mundane</div><div>the post apocalyptic smoke and fog swathed city</div><div>isn't political, mystical or physical</div><div>it's just a visual facade hiding feeling behind it</div><div>i beg you not trust too greatly the false promise</div><div>that lurks in the majesty of a beautiful dream</div><div>a self serving reinforcement, a sniff of romance</div><div>a promise of love you heavily doubt</div><div>gains life when bolstered with this nicotine</div><div>like sailors keeping a wary ear out for sirens</div><div>you'll write your own death sentence</div><div>submerging yourself in what your dreams say</div><div>while never considering what they don't</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-6425529895116639313?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-50728032537827991232008-08-13T06:34:00.000-07:002008-08-13T06:38:59.763-07:00i was born in an upstairs loft<div>with a crack in the ceiling to peer down</div><div>my parents enrolled me at a wonderful school</div><div>kindergarten to fifth grade in the most tranquil</div><div>tucked away little alcove you'd ever find</div><div>just below the freeway so the headlights could shine in at night</div><div>it was nicer and more</div><div>true than the next stop</div><div>a descended room with greasy carpeting</div><div>i majored in feigning sleep</div><div>eavesdropping in that harmless, just so way</div><div>i'm now a free man in number and name</div><div>gazing out the window of a secluded hideaway</div><div>taking delight in spying the lives of others</div><div>not for bitterness, shyness or perversion</div><div>but to see the private moments that make us human</div><div>played out unwittingly before me like i was</div><div>sitting in the globe in a secret seat</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-5072803253782799123?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-31000487992892069682008-08-13T06:22:00.000-07:002008-08-13T06:34:29.975-07:00disembodied franchise voices<div>spill cups en masse</div><div>streaming down the curved floor</div><div>and puddling up in front of a</div><div>movie screen</div><div>down by the waterfront</div><div>a popup moon with tassels and lace</div><div>where some were but others shall not be</div><div>lions leap from branches hanging</div><div>towards a child pinned under an errant log</div><div>on his way home one sunday evening</div><div>through a forest patched with cloth</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-3100048799289206968?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-27427401163585330012008-08-13T06:18:00.000-07:002008-08-13T06:22:41.569-07:00in crooked houses by crooked creeks<div>where silent mothers kiss their babies cheeks</div><div>its got to be warm in there</div><div>candlelight drenching the ground outside</div><div>a comfort by silhouette</div><div>finding yourself at night</div><div>too restless to grab a bite</div><div>or fight or spit or spin and dash</div><div>no people to see</div><div>no parties to crash</div><div>a subdued singsong soul lacking in support</div><div>both moral and emotional</div><div>can be drawn to scale</div><div>analyzed</div><div>taken apart up and down</div><div>and reassembled in traditional mosaic style</div><div>but be no more logical than it was before</div><div>lying on the ground staring straight</div><div>up up up</div><div>not a star in the sky</div><div>too embarrassed to knock on the door</div><div>worried that they wouldn't care</div><div>that you're stuck in the cold</div><div>and its got to be warm in there</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-2742740116358533001?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-75815467533874919782008-08-13T06:07:00.000-07:002008-08-13T06:18:02.827-07:00It's sweet and fine to sit beneath a tree<div>Tangling eyes and hearts beneath the flesh</div><div>Where romance is but doesn't try to be</div><div>When every deep breath feels so pure and fresh</div><div><br /></div><div>Such love could only strike a man by luck</div><div>To dive headfirst into a soul so deep</div><div>To fight to keep his eyes from getting stuck</div><div>As soft lips and hips through his mind do creep</div><div><br /></div><div>It's the light of the world that you give to me</div><div>With windswept features to burn my memory</div><div>And selfless courage that sets my worries free</div><div>If only you could be my one, my every</div><div><br /></div><div>Your eyes, your nose, your ears, your hair</div><div>Have left my heart beyond repair</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-7581546753387491978?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2966510295637121415.post-74942550306661857472008-08-13T05:55:00.000-07:002008-08-13T06:04:55.025-07:00While I was updating my other blog, <a href="http://tgco.blogspot.com">The Great Cave Offensive</a>, I realized that perhaps I could create a separate blog exclusively for posting any poetry I write. This is a very important step to take, because given that my general blog has been viewed to date by no less than four human beings, I deem it necessary to divide that pool of readership into two separate locations. I'm sure you'll agree that with a base that size, my efforts to expand and conquer the internet is well under way.<div><br /></div><div>So, anyhow, this is the number one spot for the poetry of Chris Tognotti. What poetry I posted on my other blog will remain there (as well as being reprinted here), but any new things will be posted exclusively on this page. Hopefully this is useful to the aforementioned four (the fantastic four as I've made a point never to call them) human being who've admitted in one way or another to having read the other blog, but might not necessarily want to read my meandering poetic bull(sugar).</div><div><br /></div><div>Without further ado...</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2966510295637121415-7494255030666185747?l=creakcreek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>CThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02977749383949376130noreply@blogger.com0