2202
7.9
9.i.26
a
tentative presence
being biological, ripe
conch of your breath beside
all the world’s dream
forget the thing before
lemon falls
a far south sun
we plead with the cows to
stop
even through a wall you’ll hear
day
you can tell by the light
it keeps coming
one can’t carry off
neither able to leave
nor take it all with me
long, foreshortened, fisheye
room’s different every time
it’s all the treetops sway to
this
it’s everyone will sing
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