By the way have I thanked you
for picking me up out of that muddy
stretch I got bogged down with the West
sky colors made vibrant sooty
pretending the new boom just up ahead
under the boardwalk in Nome hearing
so many gold nuggets dust and the like
stories would not replace Philippe
how it ends up pockets turned inside out
collecting just the smooth ones
absent context but so beautiful thumbing
them leaving never quite alone lonely
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