Thursday, August 20, 2015

This on Me

Blue sky dragonflies ghost night sky polliwogs.
Amphibian, Devonian, immortally mortal,
The engineers of play move out of the thin
Skinned pond, above and under, what was

Great and is still, small, bejeweled, the blue hunter,
What was egg and is still swimming, hungry, wanting
To mature to croaking, the sleek black-slipped crowd
Masses of almost wonders. Division at Hallucigenia

Millennia and millennia gone led to midsummer daydreams
Not quite whole, not quite distinct, not quite meeting. One
Amalgamation swims, ten trillion of him, and borrows nothings
To compose as nothing, nothing of him, so all of you.

This was a number of yesterdays gone, him gone,
The loon gone, a looming next dream crooning you.

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