Commedia Divine
The outlines are bleeding Climbing up the trapeze A lady-acrobat was falling Right into the middle Of the crowned screams And disappear Just think There are no bounds No circular train-lines Of the skin Everything flows into The wholeness Lost on the way to His Ears There is no waiting for Midday No corruption In exaggerating the hope A lady-acrobat is turning Upside down The legs sticking out stiffly The neck and the heels Entangled The weight and the sky Exchanging the countenances Become a piece Of a fingernail Cut somewhere in the desert Of Good Morning Unwrought in the Still golden chaos The Absolute Hunches its back Trudges laboriously To the table Pours in the same tea Waits for the latest news The sea splashing about And into the shoes The sea gulls Taking out threads From the stitches Now the wound Is left alone *** Written March 7th, 2002 © on Mar 07 2002 06:33 AM PST 0 • 12
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"The outlines are bleeding..."