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.
BOO, FOREVER
by Richard Brautigan
Spinning like a ghost
on the bottom of a
top,
I’m haunted by all
the space that I
will live without
you.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
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