Monday, June 21, 2021


All the ungainly music
Of plain day, human noises,
No human voices or songs,

Machines in the air, down streets,
Wind chimes, a mower somewhere,
The desert subdivision

Subdivided between roars
And competitive whistles,
Concertare, of the birds.

Once in a while a dog barks.
Hours without human voices,
Without recorded music,

Feel like a corrected text
From which text has been removed
Leaving just the corrections.

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