May 27, 2011


float and bubble
drift and spit
stubbled sputtered
fluttered in what I dilute
the solute,
my salty water shoots
for the needled eyed dark
of any moment
I've massed past
what lasts
when gravity wades in
in waves
and all my held breath
holds air slave
as the knave
I am
knows any sword
I draw
from what I've stoned
can plow any glory
in the caged bones
of how my story unfurls
its bent cures
the curls
and leans
any stuffed moment
can gleam
from the other side
of my blinks away
from the lights of me,
from the fires I flee...

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