Love is never anything but desperate

That night, furious stood in for love

Grief like a stone pitcher

I chose the place for its echoes

Longtime fan of the low road

For three nights every summer

Thick walls of jade, a cool hush

They watch me sleep as they prowl the night

The click-click of her shoes moving into the distance

Like a helping hand from Heaven

|Author's Note|

With this piece, we were presented with a table full of index cards. On each was a random line taken from some author or poet or past student. We chose ten and ordered them in a way that told one of the many possible stories available.

This is a method that was used by some famous poets, and David Bowie himself. I found it a joy.