spring came with her multitudes
like a palm sunday procession
entered town thru the front door
walking down the street
as the soul walks from
father to mother
the bird from the town hall clock went out
to welcome her
fell over winter rags
pouring the time over people
spring
this daughter of time
put on too much perfume
her round breasts are like two strawberries
I, the hindsight
have come a long way
(globe-trotting with my Siamese, the second-guesser
who might have gone a bit too far)
we are travel-worn
are there any vacancies?
The janitor
(how peculiar, his name was Janus)
spoke with a forked tongue
“there’s only room for one
but you could double up”
as soon as we plunged
into our truckle bed
with a sinking feeling
we overheard
I walk on cotton and cloud
or streets at random
and is nothing to do with autumn
(I’ve been thinking about this)
nights are thick
stretching like a duvet
over thin light
and flashbacks are drills
penetrating the walls of my fortress
(I am not going to talk about this)
...but your name is getting louder
and louder
in my head
and when I finally fall
asleep/ there’s an echo
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