Wednesday, December 01, 2010

fine hairs

I don't know the names
the thing waits all the same
I remember ZigZag
and sublime's shaky hands
out of the cubes
without cubes
water hands you a penny
ruins which a southerly swells
the day has its hat
the dead can't wear
within this hour you're fed up
decomposing on the ground
calms have rhythms
fine hairs in the open

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