Friday, September 10, 2010

all over the salted city mops move
on linoleum sidewalk
shadowed people among gothic architecture
depositing and receiving
cash on stigmata palms
waiting for stitched enumeration,

waiting for liberty to come like a junebug
scuttling out of a slicked anus, the future's scarlet
angels on accelerated parade,
all tides filled with floating machinery,
ticking in seaweed caress,
rocking rocking

dreams have a clock, to follow
themselves around, we must escape
our dreams, we must dream new dreams,
we must be poles convergent
with one another, kissing glacial
stamina out of the stopped rocks.

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