Monday, September 30, 2013

An Unexpected Moment of Freedom

Fractured by obligation, the diaspora of SUVs
          bears to uncertain destinations
                   to tend unknowable brains
                            while the sun maintains transparence.

 The maddest of poets lives in the squarest of houses,
           presides like some rooftop vagabond
                   as the children squeal "Malatesta"
                              in long shadows of the lawn.

"Summertime" by Abbey Lincoln plays
            at the neighborhood hot dog stand.
                    Birds above the trees are crying.
                               Life is for me, and me alone.

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