Thursday, March 11, 2004

 

Poem: Red Sea Parting

Exit!
past neon guitars and
over starry bronze memorials
crackling clear cold night like a circuit
closed, connecting earthskyauras

(a spark at every sole separation propelling
across the cracks and over the confetti
sandwich wrappers swizzle sticks garlic is king)

A beer! A beer you say!
but the hops cannot slake this thirst and
I must take the train tapping its electric mantra
to the station on the landing and run down the bank and bathe
in a river wide enough to wash away my sins

(down to Memphis, to Graceland
and on past, down to New Orleans where
they can learn to speak French and eat crawdads)
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