Sunday, December 23, 2012

entropic paradise

I've been asleep and going back to sleep—Facebook

as though it doesn't matter it all happens
she is just gone, down somewhere
the boy looks down that road late at night
listens for anything that says

I have been sleeping I am going back through
the dead grass radio

my door was always open
to going back at any moment

before it has arrived and oh once there then I lifted, listen
into the air
still as we are unknown you are not the eyes
of the same radio-turns this way that way fly-
catching catching that for which he listens:

I was sleeping I will sleep again she says again

not these conventions, no, you must have been
mistaken, intaken

it all happens as though it doesn't


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