Monday, June 11, 2012

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When you are an arrival
of light that slackens
on metal structures
when the battlefields hum up gardens
and long towers sprout
fecundate windows high
I need a cigarette to pin me to the earth
I need to be in an automobile
closing my eyes to your perfume
the engine having been given its instructions
the lady servers retreated behind glass walls
the whole landscape open to husk travelers
who hit a boundary of suspended water
come out cowed on the other side, smiling
the circuit that opened the ramps and closets
brought a meal of leaves
we washed it down with black soda
all our histories gone to the current
your transit unmapped
terra birds in a scaffold singing
to the stem of your neck
and the high windows growing.


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