Monday, August 09, 2010


the floating water casts out birds
windshield painted in ragged light
telephone dead on the backseat, bark crawling
numb kidneys

bridges chime aging in rust
tar is filled with washed pebbles ashore
tires jump, sole flip in the air,
the agonies in little side mirrors

a rain pile of ribcages

and so much white clamor in traffic
bulb orange shaving the gentle nimbus
soft from every real light
between highway lines
radiant from the edge:
two cyclop virgins

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