Somehow it’s All True

The 
Birds loudly say their names
In spring
The assonance of making a living

Which side of the moon
Is homework

In spring 
Puddles have telekinetic reflections
And walk on their fingers

Furthermore, the séance of computation
Is poetry 

A lone piano
Tuned like a pinecone 

~

Down the road

Even the sun is dust, even arithmetic is dust

But the dust on this road such fictions 

Sweating with the undreamt dark dreaming

Queried with meanderings

~

At the rummage sale

I found a copy of Charles Reznikoff, Complete Poems 

And some trading cards of Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure

I would never walk the city the same after reading Reznikoff

Hereafter always I would deal with the oddity of time travel with the greatest of ease

4 thoughts on “Somehow it’s All True

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