Sitting here under
the bodhi tree
under the new Taurus
moon in my constructed
heaven my childhood
fort that any
of us could matter
trying to imagine
that many of us did
matter to someone
or other not that far
from 1st and 51st
my prison years I
call them because
I was not yet reborn as
the flower of forgotten
knowledge the afternoon’s
sweetheart the twilight’s
last paramour and friend.
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