Unknowing Poem

This I will say plain,
I will not
Sabotage distance with
Preoccupation, I will not
Dirty the socks of the moon
With pleading.

Let them be.

That’s why shadows are important,
They tend to adhere to you,
So you are what you are not,

Jumping atop lost pianos
In factory made shoes, singing
The birds are the perfect cents.

Originality is propaganda,
Certain exaggerations
Must precipitate into fairy tales.  

Like November helicopters
Gathering up the body slams of dusk.

Pillows that are fire
For this garden head.

10 thoughts on “Unknowing Poem

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