Sunday, August 29, 2010

been making zines so poetry energy has sort of gone into that

the adventure buzzed ahead of us,
the traffic jam tearing its splendors from our reach
we followed for so many hours
caught it with expense and urgency,
this is the right time for talking,
and telling stories about spaces we filled:
voices in every modulation and medium
left their marks in the air
and even though the both of us have gone
that place will remember our names.


threaded along
this homeless game
is sharpening its teeth
as the stakes raise
I can just about cough out a bluff.

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