PESTILENTIAL FOOT PATROL
At some point, you know it, they
shall come - arriving like forest
bears broke from a circus leash.
Monkeys in a carnival brew. Wild
nuns at a Pope's parade. The crazy
matter always rises from the bottom.
We get no sleep.
-
Of course, the sainted river continues
its way - the manner of grace, the
twist of water and ice beneath cold
blue sky. I cannot say much more
to you over such things. I've left
my lentil soup steeping on the
kitchen stove.
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