Maurice Burford

looking out on my roof last night

a ghost of slushy days          snowy encumbering the lungs

one more night of painters in the audience

to escape fight        to look at the

so close to bringing the typhoon to the dream

I find myself         the gospel choir        an air to be without

awake with February in balloons all over the gray

now coming in close to the Sea         to be without


tonight I left Madrid in a moment of shine

exactly as the chord hit the night

had finally broken        trains across the sea

we were        silent         and        dead

Pluto gave a long speech        and everything burned

Posted 04/28/09