Tuesday, August 31, 2010

45*21

inter spliced and graded
A dog walks without owner
Thank Allah! Lay down your bombs
and shut off the faucets of blood
Oranges on the kitchen table
begin to mold
They match the sorrow
and when tears break loose in fire
we'll know we are in the garden
not as metaphor only
Many a blood bath
the dog needs
He nips my heels with that sort of
noncommittal gile that I learn to love
I'm a haystack in a feild of bushels
purple with eyes and cool
as ivy
crawls on your deathbed
breaks the dirt
and lets a little ocean in
this year I won't stress maybe

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