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Pastimes : A Poetry Corner -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: ManyMoose who wrote (1006)	8/30/2004 12:04:04 AM
From: E	Respond to of 1582

(Hey, you're good.) I like Seattle I don't like layovers though. Or latte headaches. Just had warm peach pie with some nectarines and blueberries thrown in. And whipped cream. This is getting out of hand. That just became, to me Just had peach pie with nectarines and blueberries thrown in. And Whipped cream. We have to work on meditative. 'Night, all.

To: ManyMoose who wrote (1006)	8/30/2004 4:02:42 AM
From: Volsi Mimir	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 1582

latest Scott Poole poem- The Best Kind of Garbage I love it when you tell me you've again found a lone wooden chair on an ocean beach or an oak chair knocked over in the forest or a pine chair in tact near a mountain top or mossy chair under a waterfall. It's the best kind of garbage you can find in nature, you say and that chairs haunt you and that you find more chairs than anyone you know. I even loved it when you told me you found a sapling growing right from the seat of one of those random chairs and you stayed and talked to it for over an hour. You make me quiet. You're the most beautiful liar in the world. (you can join his email newsletter at his website) spocom.com The Ex-Porn Star Retirement Center (from Cheap Seats) In the future there will be eighty-year-old porn stars. I could retire with them. Watching their bodies under simple old lady dresses. Wandering the building with a slow gait, one hand stroking the wall, mouth open, drool falling out. And seeing their eyes turn on subjects of love and photographs. It would be wonderful with a mug of coffee, giant old house by the woods. I would want each to have an advanced degree and to sit on old couches, talking of Schopenhauer, Holmes Thoreau, and Fudd. Maybe there’d be no talking, just the sounds of birds on the screen porch three days deep in July. Maybe just a slow gathering of images: hands cooking, mustached lips, smiles, feet in nurses shuffling shoes. We would all enjoy the quiet way a leaf might talk, a fig leaf perhaps, the symphony of a forest, among bodies that have survived almost Olympic training, the old porn stars and me.