Where are your shoes? Is your body aligned?
The mischief sent with spring repels sun flakes
Banned from patios and decks here in Northside.
While razors flee their own dullness and bits
Their drills, everyone muscles joy from grief
And plans a party for departed and yet
Unborn pets. My poker chips have my name
Engraved above a symbol of the house –
A circle, perhaps the world or perhaps
The Universe with nobody there but us –
Shouldn’t we be more careful if this is true?
Climb on my ray and zoom with me through
Conscious time, through the brick of future, past,
Through the nows that live beyond beyond.
And have we hope? We’re standing in lines
For each other. Hope is this instant, poof, gone,
A prism sphere to turn life around, examine, look
Through again, wedding ring and pix of loves
That lasted. Text me. I’m free afternoons
During the tabulations. Let’s collect symbols
For our main theme, pencil schematics
Of objects and arcs that illustrate these intersections.
Let’s just sit and try to make sense of it.
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