Parading

In what distant deeps or skies

Why I’m going to the Taklamakan Desert:

forty years later and we still want justice. We are still America. We

a loud clash and an extra wagon, a sign of extra, a sac a small sac

The circle’s association: There’s a center

I had the idea that the world’s so full of pain

away from her shoulder, away

I swing out over the earth

The seasons are no longer what they once were,

You need to be breathing