............
.........The Poetry Of.
.................. Emily Clarice Harriman
.............
.............
.............
............. Hands Are For Waving Goodbye
.............
............. Oxblood daddy,
............. shiny shoes and
............. aftershave
.............
............. wave goodbye
............. out any
............. window
............. briefcase man
............. gone round the
............. bend and
............. never coming home
............. till
............. after ten
............. when I was
............. fast asleep.
.............
............. My toxic
............. oxblood
............. distant god
............. who held
............. me arm's length
............. ever.
.............
..............
..............
..............
..............
.............. petals
...............
..............
.............. while all
.............. the world
.............. gets closer
.............. to Oppenheimer's
.............. nightmare, the little
.............. poet
.............. sits
.............. and scribes and
.............. scribes
.............. the air
.............. and there are
.............. petals over
.............. tokyo,
.............. not
.............. mushrooms
..............
.............. there's a
.............. skull,
.............. but on it's face
.............. a faint expression
.............. of
.............. alive
..............
.............. her words are
.............. real
.............. as heaven
..............
.............. holy
.............. to believers
..............
.............. who hold
.............. something is as
.............. least as stubborn
.............. pure
.............. as
.............. death is
.............. final
..............
..............
..............
..............
..............
.............. Soup's On (Said With A Fork In Hand)
..............
..............
.............. ripple
.............. belly
.............. washboard
.............. soul, i've no
.............. place
.............. to put
.............. you
..............
.............. could you
.............. hoard a cache of
.............. meaning, build
.............. a thought
.............. or two
..............
..............
.............. then perhaps
.............. we'll take
.............. a walk, take one
.............. thing at a time.
.............. you are
.............. the
.............. strangest one
.............. i've ever
.............. been this close
.............. to
..............
.............. breathing-
.............. giving off
.............. real
.............. heat
..............
.............. looking
.............. as you do
..............
.............. i am used
.............. to turtle
.............. shells and
..............
.............. age; give me
.............. some
.............. margin
.............. while i scratch
.............. this
.............. head
..............
.............. or pray
.............. or bolt
.............. or
..............
..............
.............. fall
..............
..............
............
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