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ciggete smoke is curling around my fingers, quiet jazz is playing from the record on the table next to me. The sun has gone down in the city, it is late but yet it does not sleep it never does. I can hear so many things, the
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Beat. Yes a simple word, in it's self means little. You say Beat most people think fist fights and sporting events but for the few more enlightened readers it means American Lit as well as poetry of all types from haikuby TheRedPen 2 lines, on Dec 17 9:44 PM 2007
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I have seen many things and maybe that’s why I hate every thing I see / I have seen rich grow fat in mansions of stone and steel set high upon hills they giggle at the dirty faces of the poor / there medicine
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If I live or die / I do not mind / as long I live / in a happy time. /
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On cold mountain sits a man
alone, enlightended and tangled in lies -
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