Saturday, November 22, 2014

words one will not

a word you say or will ever say
as though parachutists were not usually
men from the sky

sky, get the weep of that
for this is not a poem of longitude
dark though you may like to appear
in your shells your atomic decay
even you whoever
do not yet tread the greater flats
watch for instance now
how this
Blues band so fat and uneven
falls from the sky



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