Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Apparition Poem #542

Angie did not
arrive to white
me out— alone
in bed, 3 am, I
smoked butts,
blue lights, haze-
like, spinning, an
angel’s halo— I felt
dirty, upbraided by
blueness, as if it
showed me what
I was past
redness in me
atrophied— I
would have been
better, I thought,
inside Angie,
That’s what
was in dreams
once the haze left.

P.S. Some companion Apps in P.F.S. Post.    


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