Nora brings me back to Flagler
a fleeting thought of brass touches
sunned skin black cotton halter dress
too many cigarettes and sunglasses
Nora brings me back to my nose and
naked in the firelight and writing
spontaneous poetry but unable to repeat
Nora brings me back to fuck odes and air laced with sex.
Nora is making lists in my head of the things I should remember to bring
lists of the people I should remember to love,
minus one:
semper fi -- do or die.
Patrick brings me around again,
'thou mayest' and playground literature theory, atop slides and wine
Patrick who has left us for structure and
I can only pray that semper fi won't
take away his precious voice or hardened hips, or
his poets fingers sifting through ash,
trying to find that piece of himself he only sees in flame
I glance at shadows of laughter gracing bedroom walls,
I stare in each of your eyes in my dreams
I sleep eat feel breathe write the language we created
and I can taste that epiphany
on the horizon once more, just beyond
Admiralty Bay, just beyond John Gratton,
just beside the robot geese.
Your faces -- all my dreams -- colliding.
poetry.
give me poetry.
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