I know nothing
about reality anymore
though the realtors jangle
their keys
passing my house.

How else do I see it?
Some warbler?  Flock of chickens?
That makes no sense.
I suppose people’s dreams
are too much of it
for realtors to take.  

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Devine another poem

About Gordon Hilgers


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Was born in Denver, became a beatnik at six, moved to Dallas, couldn't get the redneck vibe down, and the goatee was too much for my fourth grade teacher, finished school, made steel guitars awhile, freaked out and did some drugs, grew out of that, entered the business world, became a paralegal, quit, wrote poetry...read more the whole time, did the homeless trip, beat the City of Dallas against the wall as a journalist, forgot about that, ended up disabled. After all that, you're surprised?
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