Anthills of the Mind

Awful dead or awful old- it all
needs fitting together the
ambient with the rest. What
had been deepened by his
derangement- was this
indulgent amnesia?

He knew long ago she had
been the steam yacht of a
famous leader of humanity.
The sheer one-hundred-meter
height of that sacred grove
of yew or lindens?

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Quite a Bit of Confusion Concerning the Night Without You

In the gloaming we sit on the porch.
The ghosts of bottles reach out
capturing the last of the sun
as the ground eats it. The forest
grows dark. Twigs point like
twisted bone fingers scaring
the last of the eating birds
away.

I roll two cigarettes slowly. I
reach out towards the distant
sunset. I hand Buck one as he
looks up from his notebook-
which contains the notes of
salvation for Sunday’s
sermon. Voices yell inside
the kitchen, or maybe it
is the TV- that blue glass
teat someone suckles on
inside.

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Dazed, Afraid to Begin

The general crooked
his finger with a great
pity, but he knew he
must waste no time.

The actress heard him.
Why not try another pinch
She thought wasting
Time.

The writer blocked-
there was no tie binding
him- he’ll never let
the right words go.

The prophet looked them
all over to see- one
thing was negative,
but the other was not.
They all looked at him.

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