Sunday, September 7, 2014

September Valentine

This morning Christ
showed me snails
to stare at I must
look them up tiny
flat pin-wheel
bits of mahogany
stately planetary
in their movements
one of which I pulverized
into a black hole’s
accidental crunch
a dissipating dust-storm
while the several others
around it sailed on
across the patio ocean
as if mindful of some
destiny or port

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