Happy pieces holding hands, happy in duress.
I understand their smiles, why they curl with mirth.
Happy pieces hanging out, happy in the group.
I hear them when they move, baking in the sun.
Happy pieces stringing words, happy down on paper.
I dunno why they frolic, what they want of me.
Happy pieces come to me, happy in conception.
But they darken, tainted through, just a touch from me.
About Brian Looney
The written word has called to me since I was very young. I spend(and have spent) much of my time reading good works and attempting to improve my poetic powers--my mind is often centered on my writing. I'm from Albuquerque, NM USA. Somewhere along the way I landed a BA in English, but I don't quite remember much of that. I may have a bad attitude, but I am a focused writer, and I have developed(am developing) a voice which grants me strength to stand.
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