Parading

Ain’t there one damn song that can make me

We could steal time, just for one day

What world is this?

thou very fact of dreams, thou majestical

Tonight, away begins to go

carefully, for he was on fire.

breathing poems

around the phonograph, which is the grooved

from the speeding passage of time, and so maybe

Behold the customary loves and friendships – the cold guards