Crossing
the Meridian
by Larry Sawyer |
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For Gregory Corso Answer me now as I ask you this concrete question Nothing more than this can be read your zebra of consciousness if I retell the past quicker than you can answer it a woman has died a man has died a man has died and the quiet toll of cloud bells encompassing politics & sex answers me now nights of wooden eyes forging flesh upon the backs of galaxies your elixir of drunken glass is it not enough to stretch once yawn and return to your dull eternity of orange juice afternoons? The voices have stopped inside my head... I visited you in zoos caged poet gargling your brilliant passageways choose one now we can't return from whence we came I will be there someday to awaken you from your sleep of neon & vestibules hoping to reach you long distance as we all must face the fact... Weird czar of the infinite and evening the long hallway yawns before us & my phone bill has become the only poem I now know I toss these verbs to the birds in the park rise across the ages your freedom has... You've now become a soft solo of spring rain floating home to Italy reaching finally what you fatally murmered I've erased my ears replacing them with the panic of reality... I hope to catch you in the horse latitudes saxophonic traveler of frozen sands. |
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