Friday, September 18, 2009

Dress

The plan, with you, was always easy. Plan empty and
call it open. Plan midnight. Call down
Heaven when in the throat of the suffocant.
Plan cigarette and call it cigarette.
Call down glass on the generous of the eyeball.
Call down canyon walls careless. Call it bleeding.
Call down DNA when what we harbored
was shiny. Call it political, politicians. Call it drift.

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