Writing poetry is hard, like pouring concrete (and as intense as making love), first one has to frame the body of the poem, this takes more than hands it takes the eyes, the mouth and the feet. It takes the whole weight of the body to press down on the mortar of alphabet.

It takes warm blood to forge the memories into bars of reinforcement, bars that will hold the words in place, that will provide the shape, bars that will hear the moans ("I want to make you moan", I tell the poem) as the words shudder gripping their bones ("I want to make you shudder", I tell the poem) and slowy harden into a poem... ("Take me in", I tell the poem, "and shatter me under your dome")

                           Like this.

2003:02:04 14:00 Atlanta