carrying my lost songs
I descend the ditch of all
skidded and crashed things
looking for a stone muff
to bury my failing faith in
while my teeth swim in my eyes
and mouths dispatch my rind
in shining soil.
Sprouting from the junkyard shore
with her pocket compact mirror
clenched in my arthritic claw
our lines of linen flags
to caress the pulse radar
its nuclear tongue
and button tar
her failing arc
pink tossed and paper barred.
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