http://slow.writerscafe.org/George%20Gaudet The original writings of author George Gaudet en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776028623 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15  For Milos  When they discovered etnaand a sea in me, they told me that I had a talent for death. That I can cheatand force a bright bird from the fire to sing while she’s taking cover behindher wings.  She won't let the rainwash away my ey.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/George-Gaudet/551329/ and after a sour vodka nightand a frightful close of lightin a mind I've had of wintera cold nearly comfortingmind at the very brinkof autumn's termclose to the close of life'sself bolt and dam" know what I mean, ma gamine?"and the blood all bluestill visible throughmadameall the while clenchedand.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/George-Gaudet/548231/ ...And the living are busy burying the dead;A poet puts the pen downTo pick up the spade; seven little girlsIn a sandlot and suddenly the sandHas turned to ash in their pretty little hands;Or an old man invites another old manTo a game of chess but the kingsHave been misplaced and soPennies will fal.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/George-Gaudet/548226/ Dear Corinne,The city; veiled in a pale shroud; a fabric mistlikened to translucent silk; it tastes so soft it's seems as if itdoesn't exist.The hurried steps of busy neighbors crossingstreams in streets leave momentary footprints a while; this morning'swet and the day will set in drains. Th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/George-Gaudet/548218/ Sunday, in the rain...and I've found an extant poem composed some yearsago...I remember...the times were turbulent, indeed, even beyond asimple measure...the rot remains , as evident in the poem...a fewcurious lines....a senryu without so much as single season word...sumof my making...deliri.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/George-Gaudet/548215/ ...You are the incontrovertibleabsence of this world-an oak leaf has gashedyour cheekand honey seeps fromyour most adorable of wounds-and as if by some indelible logicthe fictional dogs lap it upwhile the passive catsnug in her tangerine coatsleeps a tremulous sleepat your feet... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/George-Gaudet/548214/ It'll happen when some two or three centuries have passed perhaps someyoung pup in digging up some weathered old bones my own perhaps willhave excitedly dropped them at the restless feet of his master's dearmistress. She'll wonder at 'em with indifference and the dog could careless and so he.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/George-Gaudet/548213/ "What color is love?Does it ever rain on the moon?"Does he know his soulIs confined to a circleof smoke? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/George-Gaudet/548212/