the dolor: Tenth-Year Elegy

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that is not what i meant, at all.				loman, revisited

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›post #36
›bio: mizalmond
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›2/12/2010
›10:47

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·		elliott smith

021210
Careless man, my father,
always leaving me at rest stops,
coffee shops, some wide spot in the road.
I come out, rubbing my hands on my pants
or levitating two foam cups of coffee,
and can't find him anywhere,
those banged-up fenders gone.

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that is not what i meant, at all.				loman, revisited