Saturday, December 8, 2007
CONTAGION PRAYER
Let the others shut the door, turn off the lights.
Let the silence bicker and murder itself until morning,
so we can turn to face each other with the drowsy sense of new-borns.
Let the riveted acres of the dead stretch on.
Our tongues flash, like car hoods with nothing on them.
Each new day bursts open, contagious with the past...
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CALL ME ISHMAEL You know why? Because I said so. If I live long enough to make it to an airport without losing any oxygen, if I use my mo...