Thursday, December 13, 2012

a kind of nativity scene... but with now and then as if in a braid

where did the idols go?
if you could remember...

                   we as sovereign letters of light

             inn, O yeah, there was no room

and yet the words survived...
the words,

passively pyramid      ing


and the snake was Her before you were
coiled legible

                 for the ones with green thumbs

and yet we stutter over what is believable

at least the traffic is slanted
drivers driving to their dens 

awaiting inert coiling 

coiled uncomfortable

naturalizing identity...
like a wolf acting like he cares wether

or not a tie is double breasted

even though it makes me look like i give a damn
i do....
                    but not like this...

because when you wake up with make-up on you feel it
and its on your pillow

until wash day. 
when everything feels clean.  

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