Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Immeasurable Present

Where are the poems with people in them?

I mean friends. Where are your friends?

There’s the guy in the bar poems.

The postal worker hello poems.

Dude with Chihuahua poems,

Lady with scotch tape poems,

but the reached out to this one

and that one was there poems?

“Snaking through your trembling hideaway.”

“The bird-fueled shack purring like a rocket.”

“One white plate, three slices of chicken. ”

Present our measureless head—swathed in lichen,

such monsters as men shudder to catch.

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