Poems
Saturday, December 11, 2010
lightswitches
I live in a place without
light switches
to speak of
no substantive
light switches
of any
significance
to speak of So
all of my light
I make
with both my hands
and
my feet
together
Time
Happening upon
A clock that is
Never
Dormant, I
Stand in awe.
History is
Art without
Nourishment
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