Well well, looks like it's the end, my friends. So sad yet so true, here is the last revision of the poem "Origin." It's been a long, hard road (missing a day or two there and making up the loss), but it's been worth it. I'd just like to thank Jose Cuervo and People Magazine, both which induce sadness and failure (that's a quote; can you guess who said it?) Keep on keeping on.
Origin (revision 7)
I said for her to go and whisper on sidewalks, to wear her red dress, to kick me with her heels, to laugh in the junkyard.
she said, everyone dreams of the ocean, you dream of heaven, we make love over beds of limbs and glass, and the stars are only spirals of heat caught in the sky.
you can tell, she said, open your windows and feel the smoke.