I'm waiting for
this storm surge
of love poetry
to quiet down,
to finish drowning
my other emotions -
let's see what
the tides bring
in to shore,
what wreckage we
can gather up
and glue together
into what we
call "art", and
sell it at
a garage sale
for fifty cents
to an old
man who remembers
when gas was
a nickel, and
love was free
(but never cheap).

TMK 7aug2007