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Autobiography

However else the syntax
spread, there were
in that grove dove-eyed
lemons and everyone ate.

I was sound
as a protein swimming
through salt water,
dumb in my proper
solvent.

Believed the method
offered me. Dejection
authored me. I ochred.

Would have married
a lamppost that left
little room for development
on the cutting room floor
thundering Culture is a
condition zipping among
its emblems and the fresh
cloud-sprouts.


(You were always
in the background
of whatever thought.)

To introduce
into the patchwork
a consistent seam
however slippery
in the influential
root system.

I was a snake-
in-the-drainpipe, I
was aged and sage
on my balcony,
eccentric.

In such new land unsoldered,
first to crown that distance
deemed extinguished: there was
the load and a window –

Posted 03/26/10
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