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Can you fault us for thinking
this blue above is vaulted,
strung in bolts, in reams
of ichor,
of material suggested and believed
instead of stubborn physics?

Stereoscopic vision is great
for seeing the ants walk close
and the rehabilitated bees
on local blooms

It can’t see, properly,
that the azure ceiling is a lie
of just refraction,
that’s always there
as long as our clouds allow
loose moral blossom
flaunting for all comers
throbbingly defying
pigeon-holes
to let life thrum
word worrier
word wanderer
caught impossible
thought entirely
lexicographer extraordinaire
except for those I’m dumb on
like Floccinaucinihilipilification
which could mean
anythang x
The old deceptive sky trick
looks warm to the eye trick
warm under glass
while my well shaded *** shivers

deliver the goods, spring

so yeah, them birds are singing
and blooms conspire too
making you think you’re good and clear
and it’s time for shirt sleeves

but these goosepimples beg to differ
Gies a wee sookie
a wee swatch an aw

member a was braw,
pure braw

an a luv ye an aw
Azure, it tried to be,
a pure blue, more than *****,
more than daily truths

Like a sky undecided
as if it was supposed to be vaulting
but its hem got caught

And the stumble was the same as always,
teeth clenched really tight
til the dark goes
It’s true that sometime
bare limb and sprig can be beautiful,
that dun lands can show stark heart,
but for this diurnal chimp
the cough of leaves remembered,
a view engorged,
is deeply needed
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