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A Poem Like A Poem

April 6, 2012

it is only proper that I kneel between your legs

and you,   like a stoic mountain

magisterially accept my obeisance


the fresh razor cuts on your  leg are strata  on some collapsed hillside

I brush them delicately ,  searching for clues I’m too careless to find-


unmatched shards of pottery are more interesting



you bring books- your Greek offerings

and my walls collapse

I am Hiroshima, Dresden…Troy

the words you read  are Gideon words.

I like to think it’s all unplanned

but I vaguely  feel like war booty

or a trenched landscape


so here we are:

you looking down

your hands pressing   mine

“just so, just so”

my mouth, over and over

mouthing gratitude


(some recent drawings)


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