Sunday, April 25, 2010

The Wind Inside

no island
that is not how anything works
no one everything, some nothing but
that is nothing
isolate the parts
check the body for ticks
come up with

the walk took less than an hour
the mood was our pace
whispers from the undergrowth
limbs raising like diaphragms
immeasurable particulate expansion

nothing superfluous
time is something else
the specter in the white blouse
that draws out only
a little money
home to a rocky farm
a life that will not be easy

inventions of a self foreshadow
all behaviors invent
ideas thereabout -- correct
am this feel this -- so
in accordance with
selected having selected

the feelings not the words
are the dictation
these words' encumberances distract
instinctual suicide
the disembowlment of one of

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