Sunday, September 22, 2013

Kalamata

Tried to interpret the language
butterflies doors branches
masks on and off what could
be heard from far off
translated given more time
present moment clouds or land
out beyond collapsed Picasso sense
crude sun dial stuck in the estuary
with bright idea billowing. 

That's you.  Me I am
five post meridian weep.
I'm supposed to look beyond
remember the figure that waved
almost to Kalamata especially
that moment out in a wild field
supposed to report on it
before the next station.

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