Thursday, February 12, 2015

6353. IT'S THE END OF MY FACE

IT'S THE END OF MY FACE
This jawline like a landscape this 
rubble like a rock : I walk with 
big feet on the face of a jumpy 
moon  -  leaping in place, and staying.
Once this was all a fairy tale, a 
marginal endeavor, a dream. Now 
they pay me off in rubles no one wants.
Anyway, minding a minute for an hour
or two is not so bad. They've found I 
favor St. Augustine's City of God, so
that's all they allow me to read. And
read I do  -  pages for hours a day.

No comments: