Tuesday, February 13, 2007

Narcochotic Disymptomia

What do you get out of the seatback

but trash, legumes, the follicle

of a diaper remnant and that old

world smell, locating across the ages

to remind us such simple shell evacuations

as “Go west and be remade” contuse

as easy as that old Scottish bagpipe

to the head, mitochondrial drum and fife.

Blink twice and it’s Athens, again

a bloodbath or rehearsal for sub-continental

tragedies like folk novels and genocide.

The landing’s gearing down to premature

cigarette appearance, the dusty Greeks

in their rayons are sweating the generations.

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