Friday, July 02, 2004


Sewer Walking

You and me, we used to talk
Like a river underground, the sewer where we used to walk.
The hole at the end empties out to the pier
Where paperboats disappear

Me, I try to send this note,
Float it like a paper boat,
But paper sinks and words are weak.
I try but I don't speak

Join together in the silent snow
Turn our faces up to see
Not endless night, but day
A pier
And you and me, talking.

(This is Grace's poem from Joan of Arcadia.

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