It is the promise of the mornig worded with squeezed eyes.
The promise yntaxed with squeezed eyes
It stems out of somewhere near birth
With its clustered, tensed abdominals and legs spreaded.
and urge
to assess
a sound
in time
and space,
but all of this untouched.
o seed.
now...a spill of oversweetend eyes-tea,
is it a Saxon root, whitelinen tablecloth?
Progressively people and cars
begin to buzz but still inconsistent,
as if hesitating to step.
Then a rush or a
spasm.
While these people dressed up these people were still asleep.
This neat action calling for actors,
it is the promise of the morng
to be as short as possible,
to squeeze out into daytime
the promise slamming you out
of the past
every 7 o’clock: spitting-
careless of your churning-
A rough savior, but one that I can greet:
sink I wash my face in
I must not loath.
Halvhari
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