Tuesday, October 4, 2011

September Becomes A Ghost / new poems 2011

A Rail Of Birds

Crawled across a life, (a) wake),
A continental divide
Between want, need, and the death of desire
Marking moments on a map
I made with only typewriter ribbon
And the mutter of mad mumbling
Before dreams take hold,
Westing beyond the sleep I fetishize,
Beyond the heresy of geology,
To follow the geography
Hidden beyond a painted landscape's frame,
Coming to rest, content
Alone beneath a rail of birds,
Periods upon a copy paper sky,
That, like me at last,
Will never be the same again,
Even as I linger here between
Sleep, dreams and final destination.

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