Wednesday, 7 February 2007

he moved to hiroshima

what a wicked wonderful way to start the day
keyboardplastic cigarette smoke wafting over
partitions here but I am thinking about
you

oh farwaynear friend, newfound lover

I am smashed to pieces at your very words
mismanaged twofingered language burrrrred out from a bar
called Memories in Hiroshima City

you found me I found you
and the squealing gears and workings of my interiorthink
on the brink of a shift and grind
mechanicimagination

we can find other people
maybe we will

but

you can say things about slaves building pyramids and fujigrand
and punchinggodintheface and vinegaroos,
coconut candy, giant purple squid
the wasteland of dreams and the nicknames bestowed in a frathouse

and I gather you

every other bursting fragment of your being comesglittering
sharp and precious and I
(like a crow)
without thinking
pick it up to keep

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