Postponing the revolution again
temporizing and living in denial
like a good regressive
the other side never leaving
their motorcades
I wanted to send you
what’s out my window
in the beach-light twilight
looked at from one angle
there’s a gaping hole the
wind is tearing in the sky
but look again it’s just
an empty trellis downwind
dead leaves a few gods
winking at us their usual
guttural noises turning
and turning the wheels
throwing something down
whispering let’s try
that fool again.
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