Saturday, December 26, 2009


I can hold
All this in my hand, and
Not need someone to steady me
Until I can clearly enunciate
and stick to
Which meals I don't want off this menu
Until this train stops and lets me breathe
the Prairie air, fresh,
Flat lands all around
And I do not see desolation,
Only vistas
and horizons
Until then,
I will not find a way out of this velvet-strewn
chamber, and
all that i want will
remain a

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