Monday, June 17

Chase Livingston is he who walks in arid regions of the mind. The product of a few fading pools of imagination, he writes a soft soliloquy. His plight I felt and thus enjoined I penned this piece of praising prose…

an empty ocean
that i splashed dry

and i walk the shore
that was no more

but now a desert sea
and fading memory

small pools of water
a sun grown hotter

the soil of my brain
is in need of rain

and it is clear
i’d joy for water near

All credit for the above poetry is due Chase Livingston, who’s delightful poem it was that I so shamelessly condensed…