Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Tuesday Brautigan

This poem is dedicated both to another great Halloween weekend and to the fact that the ghost of Janis Joplin definitely just threw a basket at my friend Jessi. I won't go into details on the event except to say that it's pretty clear that no other explanation is possible.

by Richard Brautigan

Spinning like a ghost
on the bottom of a
I’m haunted by all
the space that I
will live without

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