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~
Pristine upturned mouth
charitable sanguineous lips
****** only when they sound as a heart murmur
filtering through dark canticle streams
to the bottom of a kalonoĆ¹ pond
no more...

~
Inspired by Fawn's poem "Coastal Refrain," using the word kalonoĆ¹:
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3483531/coastal-refrain/
~
She reads the flaxen paper on her wall,
sees its patterns,
touches them.

They project her confusion in cold chamber light.

Stained hands,
convoluted heartbeat,
she creeps into the wall's design.

"Hysteria every time she opens her mouth," said the doctor.
"Rest will cure her."

She is nostrum,
and not permitted
to participate in her own diagnosis.

A man decides how she is allowed to perceive
and speak about the world around her.

Next time you're alone, look quickly at the wallpaper.

Look for the patterns and lines and faces on the wall.

Look, if you can, for her, visible only
out of the corner of your eye...

~
One day I'll catch you
front and center
on the outskirts
of your city
riding along
a conveyer belt
you'll be dressed
quite insensibly
idling back and forth
along the past
happy in your
pathway hang-ups
and far too distracted
to notice we've become
skull and crossbones
a falling boy's
measured out footprint,
slipping in vain search
for a breadcrumb of solace

lost is spring, and green,
and bird nesting,
lost is his mother's smile,
he breathes in deeply

a memory of trees,
an afternoon sun
emptied of fertility:
a high wood on its last, teetering legs

urban air is everywhere
and wishes to be free,
but we are all carbon emissions,
separate living-dying pieces

polluted hieroglyphics
with nothing to convey,
fragments of a prayer
with nothing left to say
Not to string you along, my dear

but we cannot simply cut ties with the past

even the inconsequential have its consequences

You might outlive regret, but that doesn't mean all is forgiven
3-D
popcorn
and kisses in the balcony

little soldiers
showing dogtags
to get a free refill

before duck and cover drills
at intermission

it's all one big movie

whether the summer rockets
arrive with Flash Gordon

or by way of Cuba
Cloud 9
Force ten
Apollo 11

I'm high in the sky
Driven like the wind
But walking on the moon
July 21, 1969
Forgot to post this a week ago.
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