The whole project, the whole concept
fashioned historics from hysterics
and spit down from the ground
somehow leaving the sun sizzling
and dreaming of black days passed;
black rays balking at basking divers
able to take the plunge,
not wallow deep down in shallows.
I am the best thing you've never heard of.
I hold a Bachelor's in English, History and Secondary Education, and a Master's in English: Creative Writing, though my appearance belies intelligence.
My goal in life is to write and to be read. It's a modest stretch by most imaginations.
To most I'm amazing.
It all depends on your definition of literary merit.
All poems contained on this blog are ©Thomas Boersma unless otherwise noted.
Showing posts with label Cycle 7. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cycle 7. Show all posts
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Poem-A-Day: Day 567
Cycle 7
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