| Excerpts from an Introduction to Poetry Course |
| (written throughout Summer 2003) |
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| Some Of My Best Friends Are Bubbles |
| (written on Jun 11th, 2003) |
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| Between sound effects |
| and finger bits, |
| mini mongos and flamingos. |
| Amidst a puking bear |
| dribble cups, |
| and reversible goblets |
| for cognac or champagne. |
| Gordon's statue |
| came to life |
| upon his first |
| animated entrance. |
| The clay became flesh |
| and the first thing |
| he noticed |
| were the flip up lenses |
| on the miniature bifocals. |
| They hugged, |
| and it was funny... |
| although they had never met before |
| he had managed to sculpt |
| Fritz Dreisbach. |
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| These Hands |
| (written on Jun 17th, 2003) |
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| It begins at the corner of an eye, |
| slowly circles the pupil, |
| and drops for facial texture. |
| On completion of the features, |
| ears come running in blue fluid. |
| Of course from the ball point, |
| no eraser marks embark |
| on my parchment. |
| Additional visual effects, |
| enhancement with natural props. |
| My demon's fingers clench, |
| those horns of his do shine. |
| Teeth may talk, |
| and eyes penetrate. |
| No eraser marks can be found. |
| These hands of mine |
| pull one strokes from the ground... |
