Thursday, February 04, 2010


For a commons
Not a symptom
Of this world

Another world
Cut down
There has never

Been a commons
Except in our breath

Now propertied
The right to leave

Cross these borders
In the air
In the flesh

Not here
Or avant garde

What was missing
From their

Might put
A kind of
Frame around it

A hole in me
My neighbor
Moving me

To not evaluate
To equate what
Not equates

But doesn’t know
Sculpture abstracted
From harm

What won’t be
Missed what
We haven’t been yet

Free people
In the breath
Where the horns blow

Or rap
The right to dig
What was our right

To not be a people
Wholly conditioned
By generality.

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