Saturday, January 16, 2016

Where to walk and where to sit

the grave yard
would be
an obvious place for me
to drop by
for some hours of the week,
more friends
than ever have their names
engraved in the
last place they’ll every park,
the history of every kiss
and hours of
speechless joy
is going increasing
underground and
soon to be forgotten
as witnesses to where
you and I have have
tread fall over like
bribed boxers,
fall like ships
off the edge of
a 13th century map of the earth,
take on a sleep
so deep in dreams
of black ink
that even the word
is an over statement.

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