Friday, November 11, 2016


God, I'm so sick of all this
sticky stuff, and polluted ponds
and dangerously labored lakes.
That's a city just beyond : you
can see it standing. Philadelphia
in the yellowed weeds. It's tall
but not so bold, and all the shapes
are too modern. But, whatever that
is it goes with the territory here, and
the way people think. Mothers make
sums from milkbread and toast. The
kids come home running. At most,
it's a civic agreement, I'd guess, to
get along, saving supermarket carts.
Try that gust for wind, and make
sure something fits, even if it's
just the Goodwill clothes and
the Salvation Army hearts.

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