Tuesday, August 21, 2007

I write to put the world right---
the landscapes of my dreams
fruits, tender-fleshed
rubied juices
the uneven rubble
of riverrocks under foot

wasps seeking flowers
buds
closed and crenellated like fists

the landscapes of philosophy
languages that disappear shouts that drown
murmurs
words like granite or like
butter on the counter

words that shape the mouth speaking.

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