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Beyond and I

August 19, 2009

These sheep
With their dogs
Lips puckered suckling
On this engorged teat
In the garb of a
Fountain of youth

It doesn’t creep nor does it
Seep into the cracks
Between the bricks
It’s there
always there
just as night and day

and the seams on the beams
set the moving stairs
to think
for themselves
the birds chirp and revel
in the machinery of farewells

their wings
oh, their wings
bone and feather
would melt in the sunlight of something realer

than the industrial tarp
above our heads
tricks into blue
white gray sometimes green
when it hasn’t been cleaned

so it seems
Yes, it seems!
Under our noses
Blindfolded by some animated mirage
Nothing would be pleasure besides ripping through the tarp

With a knife
But always it turns to dust
Before my eyes can see it

And I’m left in lust
Of nothing I can feel
Certainly not to be it

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