Saturday, June 28, 2008

Heading To The Laundromat To Wash My Black Coat

I would not, not for purple loosestrife anyway. Nor tawny. The doe raspberries when I pass, nails in my foot. Roadside salt shaker. I got them Kozmic blues again Ma. There's a woman here who resembles you, by the way. C/Janis. And do I fear for my life? Like a penny rolling down hill, a brown eye in the rainflowering desert.

Say, is that crow bathing under the scarred pine tree? Or pulling what looks like a shoelace out of the mud? Design (desire) takes time so read up on, um, architecture maybe? Or what dance would you do if you weren't a wallflower. But I like blooming in dark corners. Somebody has to look out longing.

Can I pray it while swaying? In Costa Rica tumbling down? Did you hear - there's a stranger in town. That works. I was heading to the laundromat to wash my black coat anyway.

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