Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Golden (poem from about a year ago)

We were a flock of doves but we weren’t white enough.

We became gold pigeons perched on a concrete overpass,

scavenging without searching
just deciding who to shit on

We claimed new rocks- named our own winds

We became predatory and solitary and longing

thinking without asking
clutching heat and bone
empty but not lacking

Remember when we were us, and me and I were parts of you him and her?

The phone went dead. I am a raptor.

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