storms
crept over stars in the middle of the night on the marquee
open
arms for
carry
over angels
crooked
letter messiahs
street
cornering with me
and
the traffic light oarsmen
with
their slung wares
of
wanting all the what
and
where of my humanity
and
they have to know
how
much is the cost of being
a
dog in the window
that
wants the lights back on
instantaneous
mercy is
what
I see as people
keep
their hands
in
their pockets
and
their heads down
strolling
on by the avenues
and
cul-de-sacs filled with snooze
in
their screened in porches
and
the remaining bits
of
solar tongued memory
struggling
to keep
yesterday
on the front burner
as
thunder deepens itself known
desire
is throwing up
from
the wells of the sky
just
beyond the horizon
raking
a fury onto the broad leaf trees
bending
them in the sudden downpour
of
bucketed rain with long rumble hands
swaying
the chaos of forked exits
marking
you with destiny or dust
in
the lightning shows
at
the palladiums of rust
where
every dream of mine
and
maybe yours too is kept
to
be played on with
EJR
©
You're such a great closer :)
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