Tuesday, November 10, 2009





    "Chocolate Ralston"

Haptic orology
interrogates a
bluegray dawn. I
am empty enough.
Killing an hour
until they come.
Such alien ways
have all the wan
and dismal gods.
Grasped as mist,
rune lightning.
Inly sap creeps.
No one is coming.


(1985)

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