Saturday, March 01, 2003

166

THE TASK

Desperate to be known as one not desperate

The devil has a square and heavy head
Snow lands on the windowsills

Television goes on to depict nothing
That is not there

Set free like a lounge chair from the top floor of the cool dorm

Dehydrate me, lovely time brick

I've sat and watched
Close as gnats, as closely the way
The afternoon is their morning

That tree out there belongs to a star
Whispering drunk schizo or the beloved of time?

Asleep inside the gossamer sunset
Or near it causing feedback in the Atheneum

The night breathes windows