Tuesday, February 2, 2010

723. THAT OLD RUSSIAN CITY

THAT OLD
RUSSIAN CITY

Where Chagall kept painting his
dreams; oxen and carts flying over
the sky, past moons and rooftops
and stars. I guess he wasn't really there,
so to speak, but that's what dreams
are about anyway. Interiors of exteriors,
maybe, or the other way around.
-
Like a mirror able nothing to reflect,
that too is an achievement. Something,
after all, to be noted or remarked upon.
Vitesk or Vitebsk, or whatever it was.

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