Wednesday, May 18, 2011


Some sort of death camp mad cap romance,
my afternoon's shirtless spitting raspberry seeds
into plastic bag reveries, rain beats to neighbor's alarm,
wet outside and purified earth, red carpet to rapture,

I decide
to walk slowly
in cleansing showers,

walk backward under
dripping moons
and heartless star,

wet shoes marked
by grayed escapes

storm picks up stereo-sound beating down
cover your head lower your head
shield me eyes and sweat mixes with drenched hood,

cool May and where's all that spring yet to come?

how's the seasons revolve around the sun?

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