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Monday, November 07, 2005

ideas of falling unfold methodically

Ideas of falling unfold methodically.

In the city, a system enacts itself, cleverly without language.
Crows gash the aggressive air, unrelenting fabric.

High flat sun. Their shadows create Venn diagrams of something
best left unspoken. When they falter, the world breaks in.

I keep my cursive longingly to my heart; my caesuras barren. We
distract ourselves, and play coy with slicing poor fingers as
markers of progress, insight.

Crows beat against the hordes of clouds. This elemental rejection
enlivens them, quickens their elegance.

Soon a copse of elms peels itself upward. Wearily you might sit,
desiccated rubble sharp beneath your heels. Narrow leaves
present an index of the city.

Searing sweet irruption, our city lights itself at night—neon sign tumescent.
Pulsing with. They twist their reflections, their images in televisions.

5 comments:

CLAY BANES said...

T,

If you haven't seen Remainland: Selected Poems of Aase Berg from the new and mighty Action Books, you've got to check it out. It's great and I think you'd dig it.

C

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saudade said...

I linked you to my blog, casual-t dawg, now start a posting yo! Jabbo.