Precious Little

Precious Little

 I have read that CB wrote

Ten to fifteen poems

Every night, and how

after seeing how much he had produced

concluded that it was, actually

very little

 

Much of my poetry has been lost

 countless rented houses, apartments, rooms

halfway houses

Bullpens, Flight Decks, and rehabs

Homelessness, so

I am left with very little

 

What I have left

Is so very precious to me

Whatever beauty may have been produced

Is all I have to offer

So love me when you read it, for

It is the very best of me.

RWR