Saturday, June 7, 2014

Citrus and Lavender on 13th and Niagara

The sweetness of green on the basil light
gleans a concert of bees, a tall man who is happy
watches as youth fills the child’s mouth and screams,
I have compressed the dust in this corridor, back
and forth the recurrence of time travels dream
today I chew the airs purple flower, and I am
at once a cow, or lamb, or incomprehensible being
that once demanded the sacrifice of such things
but forgot at last to be.

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