February 12, 2012 § Leave a comment

tick off frostcoat
mornings inlaid
with firestoned eyes
shake woolened hands
stomp downed boot break
fast with the matriarchal
of dawning corners
air greased coffee drowned
conversation slow
around subjects half
interesting but easy
the tab can be ran until
Thursday so again a cup
the bell rings
your exit up the blue banked
avenue to do your ten
and a half
bent over the fortunes
of unseen men
with minute-clocked precision
memory locked in fingertips
fading elsewhere
the day automatic piled with
cough arthritic blind
clone after cloned
parts for industrial partitioning
clinging to what little
there is left
for you to do
until the bell
rings your exit back
down that washed
up road past the diner
the evening has waited
your return with
without prejudice
into woodstove
will go split palletwood
useless mail
the evening paper
the news is never
worthy of your attention


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