moving through green after green
looking with dark eyes
upon the dawn's cargo
billboard shrieks and diamond harbors
where we cannot afford to go
glinting in the wincing distance
an empty chair
deepening under a solitary lamp
shoes on a chunk of ice drifting
and an open fall.
I thought I could chase every dream
and keep my soul.
Watch the worshippers of the razor
line up on a dead shore.
Me with a shrunken oar
on a floating splinter
in the spill of day
or chemically new light
rotating farther.
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