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Two Poems  photo

All blue awnings

man stands for myriad of anonymous nouns
something like far off voice
presumably an empty mountain becoming his own
invention, able to stand by itself (i.e. come where I am)
is the closest to first-person rather clutzy
shadowy moss reminiscent of Sanskrit forest trysts
(i.e. 19 ways of looking at you) on first stage
like the game of pretending to read (ideogram)
how to translate nineteen times you
sharpen in silence my three-eyed moth
opening lockets after everything’s stacked vertically

what were we doing middleway
               crossed-finger
               as though obelisks
               stranded by hand.

Limestone &

Temperatura inside is one thousand°
It’ll be done in a couple of hours
It won’t break from heat

a part from this rush
comes & stops for some time
its blankness

just all of it
with a body

that also goes away

I feel benevolent

This is lovely.

image: Francisco Gonzalez


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