SSS
To you: whose brow is made of metal Whose curvilinear form and Whose warm weight and Whose full-throated Self is so self possessed: Sorry So Sloppy ————— Dozens of them set out on the slope o f the hospital grounds Searching in teams You, Christ on a cross I hold your hand, unsure OK yeah yes easy-peasy —————- Friendless in the air conditioned dark Kicking at a moonless sky Possessed of an idea That a call or a coo Will bring us to you But we never do arrive And so you writhe upward Toward the static And quivering constellations And it never ends —————- In years past I was of the night Less lately But still, time to time Look up at the moon And sway sickly as the knees tickle And wake with a prayer For clean weather
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