Saturday, September 24, 2011

Morning Air

I love this place
what it does
I can walk down the street
without my skin stinging.
Blue under the cuticles
from oxygen deprivation
a soda bottle corked
with air inside I walk with
enough air in there
to get me to Red Hook.
Tape my wrists and ankles
shuffle to the river
I've got all day
to tie up lose ends
things are marvelous
in the morning.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Your poem is marvelous, too!

1:15 AM  

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