there's a hole in the air

the cold wind burns
it furrows and cancels
illuminated faces from
ignited thunderclaps

the intercepts of photography
grab at it
far above the standards
of a light bulb


Anonymous said…
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Bob said…
great site, Jill...

would you be interested in recording this poem for the next i-Outlaw (http://i-outlaw.blogspot.com/), my audio poetry show?

let me know!

Bob Marcacci
bmarcacci AT gmail DOT com

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