Wednesday, June 6, 2007

pacific atlas

brain's torn in to wetlands now
and thrummily the kismet chums
with glycerine and poor
tall feeble chimps to begging

I beg universal inference
to draw from home a path
to stars I nibble on plump
light I watch myself become

absorbed into what I imagine
full on in the treble morning
sinecure for whee lines
as a matter factual where branches

coast alerting us to sky
there is a stone somewhere
that won't release the earth
for all its stamina

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