Monday, July 25, 2011

A Funny Kind of Sorry

The asterisk in place of gender. A copper flash that indicated blades. Summer dresses, visible ankles. I'd count my blessings but I'm otherwise impaired.

You do it. Your photographs make me think you think that beauty can be made. Consider again the calf muscles of competitive swimmers. The order your inclination breathes.

Forgiveness at another extreme. He indicated he was not inclined to theological niceties. What a reedy voice you have when you complain about needing to travel. A daughter making it up as he goes.

That sonorous boom we called God bowling. A friend's cattle, a familiar blue light. We dipped cucumbers in hot sauce, watched the waves a mile away, and never quite made it to regret. Me and you and a funny kind of sorry.

Oh, it'll all be red flowers. Dull odor of piss, half a dozen cartwheels. I looked up and was surprised to see the Big Ladle at such a crooked angle. I'll say I love you and you'll compliment my vest.

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