Friday, May 16, 2014


I believe that the dead are
As "banal as the living."
I believe that they exist
In the same spaces we do,
Bounded by rounded squash skulls
In part, and by submerged streams
Descending through mists of art

Such as language and picture
And community dances,
In part. We commune with them
So unsatisfyingly
But so well, as we commune
With ourselves, and I have faith
As we are, we are lonely.

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