Somehow it’s All True

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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