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Buoy the population of the soul
Toward their destination before they drown
~ Robert Pinsky
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Friday, 18. May 2007

Ethanol High - A Sequence (Version 2)


[A]

Parallels

Euclid’s Axiom:

Parallel lines don’t

intersect

except at infinity.

False! False again!

Soft kisses under fall

foliage

remembered today tell

Me, how we met impossibly once.

Two parallel lines again

stretching

into the blue infinities.

[B]

Unlangauged

I will become unlangauged

Like the birds

The insistent fluttering of

whose wings

The high pitch of raucous

Bird love song

In sparse snow armored trees

(You walk under)

And fill up the wintry silences

Of my grief.

[C]

Black

Black: the color of soot

ascendant of lights

extinguished.

Black: the night I fight

with puny fires

raging tears.

Black: the color you liked to

wear; the antimony in

your unloving eyes

Black: the blackness of this memory

I hold to write about

Black

-----------------------------------------------

2001:12:20 02:30 Atlanta

Wrote these poems, on an Ethanol high.


My Poems

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