Pint and River
Sometimes the pace of life
distorts me
I convalesce for a second in the meat and poultry
isle of dead chicken and hungry men and for some
instant instance the river riveted rejoices in my
broken mental steps as when
running for the bus to you never catch your breath
-i caught your breath once, you the one who
reminds me of music, before i forget that
we came from the sea of half-truths i caught
your breath once didn't I say that?-
Weakened jolt across the zebra cross the long
walks of mid-July and once again the
cedar trees are dying in the deserted populated
lands without my shudder at the footsteps of the bog-queen sharing
her mud with the hands of reckless politicians unfixed not hinged
diluted paints on Sunday murals and withered dynamite
-i still forget how along ago i saw you and yet irrevocably,
my very first dream of you was a ten-year-old's fiction-
It's my affliction to believe only myself and not
the radio in the morning as the cries of crooked
sea-gulls float hover are removed from
the screetch of the 18:47 Tower Bridge trained suburban snake I
tend to you tend my wounds myself and once more the
heart I could yet have has choked my breath and if
you catch it please keep it with you at all times.
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