Smoke Rises (From Scorched City Ruins)
fire flies with formative lissomeness down stairs and through cathedral doors to greet the midday Monday’s prate about policemen, bankers and whores the lonesome eyes catch light and pirouette up walls and upon misty shelves the hour glass pours somber silhouette as boys read on and on by themselves illuminated signs glow beckoning off lurid streets and by the park clean sheets and pillows soft for sleep thick curtains keep it dulcet and dark the remnants fuse us with congested hope within the vase withholding breath we smile and talk, then all shake hands now all evading untimely death GBE Written March 23rd, 2001 © on Nov 03 2001 04:24 PM PST 10 • 0
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"fire flies with formative lissomeness..."