3.15.2010

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Amidst the polluted swoon, where on earth is earth?
To be seen without living inside of a body. By stare
alone: a nun chants a confession. I watch her walk away.
Not even a shadow follows in unison, like a cave's half-mystery.
Web of acquaintances, a placement of dominoes; thin disguises
without risks ransacking every part of you. Did Picasso
create peacocks? Is that an 'ex' or Roman numeral ten?
The seasons are consistently disassembling themselves.
My throat is like a vocabulary airport: words going to and fro.




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