sábado, 28 de junio de 2008


in this floood of earth

where seeds end

and augur nearness-you will sound

the choral rant

of memory, and go the way

that eyes go. there is no longer

path for you: FROM THE MOMENT.

you slit your veins, root swill begin

to recite the masscre

of stones. you will live. you will build

your house here- you will forget

your name. Earth

is the only exile. ( !!! )

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