And the observant tree dweller so cruelly besieged or so torn in adobe dust
contrite but ankle-deep in blood, up the hill of winged heaven
astride the dismantlement of the main dominant Babylon religion
mid-June until fall frost on her African violets to kill aphids and skinny frame garage
coiled green rubber globe, the cities contain stately lakes--
elms, small well-kept yards, the birdbath grape arbor,
golden horses on the roof, the great dome restaurants, muffler shops,
and some stopped by in loose white blouses and leaned down, holding their hair back
the brave little skyscraper of my stucco bungalow
the loneliness of blocks of furniture under majestic archways
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