Saturday, August 06, 2016

Long calls from
the thick border of sense,
long wigs and long eyelashes
hung on the bed's corner
long sighs from the long long bed
flung telephones blinking captive light
in the pink belly of the beast,
with furniture.

Heart-wrung animals
cornering power for themselves and others,
we think on planes, imagination monied.
The brims of the cloud are fleeting purple
that the eternal heart is made of here,
in subliminal traffic.  Gaze on gaze
melts off while the green is on
all over the world, at gunpoint.

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