We laugh at first, too
Then curse
All night hearing thrss thrss rounds Ears to Earth
Under frosty rotating nebulae
As in War
Expecting to listen “mi arma” my mind And “mi vida” my life
What ¿
Gamblering prospector
Burro doctor horse
Trader prostituyes
Turned to dust Gioia
With opened skirt Gathering wood in the sand of Arabs Privileged to see
The union of Sky and Earth
As the Great Gatsby
Sitting in its living room
And playing through the night With “The Start of Things”
By Ali Smith
Breaking up like having to lock Someone out in the asking
And not in the answering
Of her “The Whole Story” Because we live at the Edge
Of the rays of Moon
Bronzed with small exclamation
Of the tongue:
“Pretty good
Go on with all
It s too immense.
newmiragejournal 