georgia, you’ve been on my
mind
as i wait for spring
and the pear blossoms
to bring relief to the headachey
grayness of days
the phone never rings
no one calls anymore
no mail —
no one sends flowers
what’s wrong with the world?
no one ever likes the obvious
answer
sneered at with slanted eyes
but there i go sliding into
abstractions
like so many suds
down the drain
georgia, you’ve been on
my mind
