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Georges Poem

Friday, July 25, 2008. As though we dreamed it. I was watching over his shoulder,. Listening as he whistled dryly through pursed lips. Squinting through wire rim glasses,. Exactly what they meant,. He was up there in the shaded studio. The blaring opera and fanned out brushes. Id never seen so many before,. The model on the couch, arched her back. Painting seemingly with no mind,. Painting after painting, piling up. 8220;COLOR not value, he exclaimed -. That Almadon bottle emptied. Posed upon the rock.
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Poetry Blog

Gregory Botts, since Clouds, leaves, waves. Wednesday, August 5, 2015. New poem still in edit. Sunday, January 12, 2014. Still dragging Hektor by the hair. Except for the meaning in the word,.

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Georges Poem

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Friday, July 25, 2008. As though we dreamed it. I was watching over his shoulder,. Listening as he whistled dryly through pursed lips. Squinting through wire rim glasses,. Exactly what they meant,. He was up there in the shaded studio. The blaring opera and fanned out brushes. Id never seen so many before,. The model on the couch, arched her back. Painting seemingly with no mind,. Painting after painting, piling up. 8220;COLOR not value, he exclaimed -. That Almadon bottle emptied. Posed upon the rock.

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This web page bottsgeorgespoem.blogspot.com states the following, "Friday, July 25, 2008." We saw that the webpage said " As though we dreamed it." It also said " I was watching over his shoulder,. Listening as he whistled dryly through pursed lips. Squinting through wire rim glasses,. Exactly what they meant,. He was up there in the shaded studio. The blaring opera and fanned out brushes. Id never seen so many before,. The model on the couch, arched her back. Painting seemingly with no mind,. Painting after painting, piling up. 8220;COLOR not value, he exclaimed -."

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