Morbid, Part 1: Tiny Little Holes

As part of our pseudo-ritual, Kinsey Dickey, Steve Rahn and I would goof around during particularly dry Wednesday evening services. Kinsey marked the beginning of the morbid series by sharing with us her poem, Tiny Little Holes:

The world crashed in today
In tiny little holes
So tiny no one noticed them
But me

I am a fool to cry
Yet the tears come anyway
Without my permission
They come marching down my cheeks
In silent ranks

They fill those tiny holes
That were made when the world crashed in.

Others Thoughts:

ha! i do remember that night. writing poems about our overly melodramatic awful lives. i miss me some steve rahn.

Shared by: kinsey on 30. Březen 2005 17:16

Any idea where that boy ever ended up?

Shared by: JDG on 31. Březen 2005 13:55

jess, the last time i talked to steve was about 3 years ago. i had to make a bit of an effort to track him down. ie i got doug mattson to give me all of the numbers for all of the rahns in lansing (i think) and i called them all til i found him. (there were only six.) i still have that number somewhere, but i doubt he still lives there. it's his parents' number i think.

Shared by: kinsey on 10. Duben 2005 19:27

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