Prologue Starting with little in mind the best you might do is begin it over and over again. transforming the real earth to a texture, and strength beyond control. I am thinking of a wave. We sit, huddled in winter coats, transfixed to the logic of stars collapsing. The fresh gravity pulling at stones we grip. Locked tightly to the seams of night, the moon rears like a fenced stallion, and, its rage subdued, turns back. Then the hour is loose as the music, a vapor passing through. It defies each change. As the wind outdistances each word spoken, and replies with a promise already broken. --Jim Carroll
Posted on: Fri, 26 Dec 2014 01:13:29 +0000
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