Tim Carlson Biography

She bore a platinum baby,
of one she could be proud.
Her mossy earthen womb,
a misty dew-grey shroud.
...

This I know,
this I dread,
But this I'll know,
when I'm dead,
...

The envious corner,
The combed silence,
Breathing heavily, feeling is dank.
Shivers, that his arm touched mine,
...

Lieing lips,
Burning hearts,
For she does not know.
...

I feel about this small,
a thimbel shaped growth,
unshaped and common.
Who are they? not me,
...