Monday, January 11, 2010


Do you like the moon--
The molten discount thing that I gave you?

Once we were lowly,
Silvered in grease and labor with gaping eyes,
Wanting eyes.

There where your moon marked a rippling

The causality of light streaked with poetic

Do you see the gift in it?
This time the world did not so much enclose upon the miracle,
The miracle cleaved to the soiled cleft.

The world was like a dog, it obeyed with profound thirst.

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