Friday, December 06, 2013

The Day of Extraction


Suddenly we must be discovered soon
And disappear in a flame of banners gone
In a wave of trumpets wahoo we’re alive
With us! together for once and sipping sighs
Of entire generations from empty teacups
The lids of our faces opening as the first
Rude clouds rush between what my fire
Drenches what your water singes this desire
Quickened and quenched by our eyes
The ruined towers of our souls rising and those
Aren’t clouds they’re crows O god it’s difficult
To find ourselves finally here together in these
Wobbly chairs of poetry where we can see
Nothing but the trees at least are thoughtful

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