Raw Goods

elegy of p.

not an infalliable test by any means
owing to the superior theif
who stole air, farewell
to the waving eucalyptus

vision a real substance,
solitude a cell used thrice.
One breath of electrode coil
steals us of switchblade jumps.

Why don't I tell you
of the unfair uniformity?

I'm trying to save my life.

In the end, conclusions
have gone before
solace and pleas
to enter the room.

Why don't I tell you of
that most excellent and valuable
of household arrangements:
hid out on the front porch.

I wish I had all the time
to explain, to show you
midnight in California
high noon in the lungs.

It's nothing but a shame.

posted by judy j @ 10:21 AM