Thursday, April 18, 2013


we were man-wild in the streets
and now we are aging
we were pulse-pounders
and now feel an ebb in the blood
turn up the stereo car and we'll burn
close to burnished curbs

in sacrificed memories, an altar of smoke
legs spread one last time
wasps sting through linoleum
calves cry out as lungs buried
churning breath of alien air
turn up the train speakers

let's mask a dance of death in garden colors
one last loud time
one wavering quiet

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