The Opportunity

 There is an oblivion 
Just next door
Recently relocated.
 
Here one visits
If one is willing,
A returning
From the future
 
That’s been with you
Before you were born.
A pumpernickel dawn
Of abandoned hospitals.
 
But some fool
Cut off the wings.
And misplaced
The spelling bee.
 
So, you hold up
The rainy bicycle
With the perfume
Of your arms, and
 
Into this pinch of creation,
And pinched by creation,
 
Till your knuckles have as
Many stars as a galaxy.
 
Laughter is a tree truck
Without a ride home.

4 thoughts on “The Opportunity

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