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Friday, July 2, 2010

Midnight Annapolis


Nothing's sadder than listening
to other people party,

toying with the abacus of ideology
while twenty-year old prodigals
get half-bipolar on the blow--exotic dope:
qualuudes, ayahuasca, cool stuff
they briefcased in from cities
richer than thou,
more-well-adjusted than thou.

As they learned money management
I played the lottery--
desperation, poetry--

roasted marshmallows on coat hangers
over candles on the roof,
slid home on the frozen tears of dirty old lunatics
patrolling in Town Cars for love
and watched the earth turn on its side to sleep with me,
absorbed by elementary questions     
we are asked to answer with assumptions:

What is a point? What is a line?
What do you miss when you have everything and no desire?

Soon the shackles would appear,
the laws would focus,
fine print enlarge.
I took chess too seriously.
I learned what’s in the biggest books of all.

Some birds never learn to fly and still survive.

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