Slow Train Coming (015)

Thursday September 27, 2012 § Leave a comment

Topaz and granite
suburban villas spread
like pond growth
sandstone hulks

it is barbarism springs him to the brink:

                        a man who franks his anger
                        on the wind

                        who turns circles in the drowning pools
                        of his ambition

                        left to tread the dusty rise of circumstance,
                        in coarse climates,

                        dilatory and resilient, here
                        are seeded the pale fires

                        that would burn the very sand, & could
                        quench an ocean

                        thirst answers thirst, as sky answers sky
                        one expanse struggling

                        to contain the other    in the tangerine scrub
                        a kiss fails       a kiss

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