Tuesday, February 11, 2014

If We Ever Find the Flesh of Our Unity


And you have already told me no
More words advancing at high noon
Stale syntax charging under a gullied 
Sky awash and assailed by these cold
Clouds anxious to proclaim afterwards
That my legion of snails is doomed
To fail ha ha like toppling boat sails
And why do you care if that simile
Makes more sound than sense O why
Don’t you answer the philosophical
Question I close like a painted shutter
On this day of frail transfiguration this
Day you say of happy numbness what
We lack in pain you say we gain in rain

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