Thursday, July 30, 2015

Morning Valentine

Or maybe all these dreamt years
the poem has been chasing me
trying to offer me a form
for my life’s iamb and trochee
a comprehensive theme or music
that begins when I appear onscreen
captured by the performance
of reality waiting in the background
revealing itself a day or two later
in memory’s reconstructed text
some words crossed out but not deleted
others added in an unknown hand
no cat to be seen

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