At twentythirtyfour
On the eleventhofseptember
a neuropathological tracer
Jumped from the box,
Lost poem; a title over rain
men waving tins at a tractor,
And the later sleeping wihout
Rest; rooms full of waves,
the ineluctable modality of water.
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 11:18 AM UTC
At twentythirtyfour
On the eleventhofseptember
a neuropathological tracer
Jumped from the box,
Lost poem; a title over rain
men waving tins at a tractor,
And the later sleeping wihout
Rest; rooms full of waves,
the ineluctable modality of water.
Published in `Icebox Journal`.