Saturday, January 18, 2014

The Day of the End Where One Begins


Take for instance the tradition of reading dreams
The long practice of interpreting sleep thoughts
A doe browsing at the edge of woods alliterative
Birds ablaze and painterly smoke on a horizon
Urban conflagration a shitty city all aflame then
A sudden smile flashing failure eyes reflecting high
Comedy the soft lips of night and upon waking
The body whines with its first impoverished steps
Across an empty room what one seeks and one
From whom one seeks it across the vast distance
Of a continent O who one loves and who loves one
Where does this country go to dance and sing?
Where is the exquisite society of dreamers
Walking open roads in the clear air and singing?

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