Life, And The Fullness Thereof
A poem for Frank.
There are three
Questions that life
Has never asked me:
When do you want it?
Where do you want it?
How much of it do you want?
This has been
A cause for great
Concern
thanks to Dr Wayne for turning me onto "If I Was President".
What is it about Market Street that makes folks so darn sleepy?
6 comments:
Great poem, Jon.
Thanks Ib. I don't think Frank knows that the poem you wrote was for him. Don't forget, just now he is posting from the library and internet cafes. Perhaps you should bring your poem to his attention. I'm sure he'd appreciate it.
And so ends Write a Poem For Your Favourite Recovering Dope Addict Week.
Now that you remind me, it is nothing short of astounding that Frank has managed to juggle his shit and continue to post from the library. Impressive.
I still csn't find IB's Poem.
It's been a week or two now. Ib posts about 5 times a day. I'll write him, give him your address, ask him to let you know where your poem is.
Where's my poem?
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