PoetryFebruary 1, 2007 2:53 am
I.
flown over again to
where the december air
is grey, not blue
like the air seen in your
eyes
that night you didn't sleep
snow in chicago and more in philadelphia
from the wing window seat
mechanical devices screech
the dull roar of the engines
II.
the sky is never as blue
the grey misery of industry a comfort
in the belly of the metal air tank
in luggage is you, devotion is hope
III.
a morning ruined
with the fate of moving
moving away from the unknown into
a pre set fabrication
scan the lines for a honorable mention
never the victorious prize
scars mark
and fade
what is original material
if stolen from the reality of flesh
mark the skin
hold the heart
go to bed hungry for a
relapse


