Jenny Walty
Brooklyn, New York.Monday, January 01, 2007
First poem of the year
California sun, warmer than NYC could ever be on Jan. 1st. My skin pricks up to the shower of photons and a chill works its way up my spine. How fortunate, to be the first awake in this New Year. We were purified by fire--our bonds of comradery a delicate daisy chain. The ethics of communal cooking could come in handy one of these days when dishes need doing.
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