Sunday, January 22, 2017

9108. HELP ME?

HELP ME?
I try to find glory in the clothesline,
in Mrs. Grady's billowing towels and
sheets, in the cars in Sedlak's driveway.
It's there, somewhere, I'm sure, this glory.
I seek to find it, again,  in the smallest of
things, because I know this life is right
for me. For now. It has a certain contagion.
I move through time and dissolve in my
varied and changing intensities, just to
break into and out of all my other levels.
Does anyone know what I mean?

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