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Tuesday, November 8, 2011


In St. James park

The insupportables of life, and suns in a
stand-off with dust,

unleash the crows on them—just two crows!—
The dark wing, as it's mean
and stand-offish, snagged
and sanded in the same wind and the sun,
 is upon them

Mohawks compete with locals
for some fear, too
Do they mean to join us, in the parks?

Wind and the suns
mean no harm, not with all the tents & the needles
in a row; not when sex cathects a church and compels a lot
    of Love

They mock the Abbé who offers donuts, or the greying
 politico with fairish jaw

 Girls isolated lie sprawled in yurts
 eating out of a can,

What's it a question of anyways, money, sex, or some signs
  without organs?

Nothing's heavy-handed here! They repeat daily—
  Look!   just
             girls, cold-bitten

copyright(C)Conrad DiDiodato2011

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