Wednesday, September 23, 2009

September 23, 2009

a slave to
the rich, arched and
flat backs
stare blankly at
themselves in mirrors

she pulled me
out of the darkness, winter
painted me into

take the gift
i bought for you . . .
burn a bridge
and watch the ashes
take my shape

before dawn . . .
look for a cloud
to water

i'm on a
toilet bowl without
a lid
watching the sun set
between a rat's legs

thick legs . . .
an ice covered

a cloud, she
hovers over me
the same breath
the same breath

night walk . . .
a blues harp among

moonless night . . .
disembodied eyes stare
at the white
man walking through a
dragon's intestines

what are mirrors
to a laborer
picking rice?

she sips
brandy tonight
with the
leftover dream
she never pursued

late night . . .
hoping the moon will
lead you home

to the party at
calls to mind easter
sundays in a rest home

summer rain . . .
even the roosters

the light rail
carries passengers
into a
galaxy that has
no time for words

will the
song in my heart
scatter stars?

the dragon's
feces flows through
my veins
pulling me deeper
into madness

paint me
kindly, summer wind . . .
steeping tea

robert d. wilson


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