Saturday, August 15, 2009

March: Year-day 77

[ Treat the following as a period piece and focus on the intellectual distance I gave it. ] March: Year-day 77 Crisp and clear, with just a stroke of haze here today, the two red-snowsuited kids bright against the blue / the trees' wounds, harsh and sheer, I think of my cross-legged nakedness--light upon the bed--and of how Oshkosh was three years ago, St. Patty's Day, the last in Streak Week, during which I, just because, joined some guys led by a gal, and moved fast. It's amazing how what one feels he feels he seldom has that urgency to show which shows his difference from rocks and eels or the blear encasements of ice and snow even if shucked of his clothing he reels, pretending he'd share who exists below. -

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