Thursday, June 10, 2010

Who are called upon to leak
All barriers of the same
And what we are and when
We are not reconciled

The way the ground rose up
Spills our guts makes us, um,
Come clean—spreads the
Shittiness around at least

Endless streams of stars
Crossed by song unweaved
Recall what won’t be sung
Because no one is dreaming

It seems I can almost touch
The plume they cannot plug
Me up with currency and currents
Touch everything we’ll never be

Copulas of cant
Evacuate what’s left of place
Signify while real eyes watch
A wreck of belief.

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