The lint that gathers slowly on our skin
Is made of unremembered dreams.
Between my toes lie fragments
Of grand events and strokes of luck,
Behind my ears the residue of you.
Snakeskin emotions gather always,
Always dispersing, molting too,
Through abrasion and erosion
On the insides of my jeans,
The teeth of my comb, the dryer,
Eventually floating on the wind of my house
And out to distant, growing fields of corn.
Hey Bob. I just wanted to say it was good to see at graduation (it's been a whole year! #@&*!) and I love reading your posts. They always lift my spirit. You should be proud, your blog is one of my favorites; a consistant source of joy in my verbal-communications life.
Posted by: justin at May 18, 2005 07:53 PMHey Bob. I just wanted to say it was good to see at graduation (it's been a whole year! #@&*!) and I love reading your posts. They always lift my spirit. You should be proud, your blog is one of my favorites; a consistant source of joy in my verbal-communications life.
Posted by: justin at May 18, 2005 07:53 PMI apologize for posting twice.
Posted by: at May 18, 2005 07:55 PMjustin: the second time was even better than the first. thanks for being thankful. the blog has been quite dry, of late. but so has bob. have you a blog?
Posted by: bob at May 22, 2005 10:17 PMand by the way, one of my housemates read this post and thought the poem was gross. but i am watching rush hour on tv with him right now, so we're rebuilding some social capital.
Posted by: bob at May 22, 2005 10:20 PMMy xanga blog is called And Another Thing and my user name is BillShakespeare. Come over to the dark side Bob, get a xanga account. Everybody's doing it.
Posted by: justin at May 25, 2005 07:26 PMMy sister aproves of you, Justin. She's a xangaphile. My username on xanga is bobdimes... I'm trying to keep a foot in both worlds.
Posted by: bob at June 1, 2005 04:46 PM