Wednesday, February 01, 2012

People of the Present

Now that the weather
is one season
an old copper wire
is buzzing with spine joy
near the windy river
my cap is stained with
the present tense and see
I will warm my hands
over a barrel
of delightful syrups
what I'm saying
enthusiasm is brief
and the ineffable flash
from an ancient telephone
is the burden of weather
of thee I sing

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