Saturday, February 28, 2009

Poetr! (at the airport)

Poetry! The ruined old figure of a woman in a wheel chair puts it all in perspective. And I think of the cats-and-dogs fighting. Smoke rising. Stars and dust. In the light of my body I think and I feel. In the shield of my love. Hear, O Israel! (God comes with all this thinking. And, all around him and inside him, like leaves burning, or leeches-- death.)

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