Sunday, September 21, 2008

things go crash, I'm absent, reading
trash, thumbing thru obsolete yellow
books, wondering what scene we're
in, when the dumpsters turn gold
and its all autumn again, or else
sugar in cement to catch fox paws
or ways to track oneself. One night
I was here, the next I was there.
The rubber band in my mind
goes snap.

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is this real?