Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Signage

The magic of the real:
an early-morning swan
on chaff-strewn swollen waters,
the easy float of white on mirrored black.

This incandescent moment
too true for any words

while skill with words goes screaming all around,
the selling of the "me."
What fake to be believed?
Which misleadings to be followed?
What lies do we decide to turn to stories
for our dreams?

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