Sunday, March 22, 2020

Layer cakes of neon lights
my love at a gas pump
the fenders of passing galaxies
and their scanning ships
a spray of divorced stars

I see the world spread out deeply
while I am shining some office window
the me beneath me
and the me in gloves
watching it rush to an edge
and then come rushing back

a rotary of tar decks and high bulbs
enwraps my shadow and my departure
a sluice of cutting prows
and brown bag sluggers
precedes me and drowns

I am here with my cudgel of ink
amaze me

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