Friday, June 4, 2010

St. Quirinus of Sescia

the weight of these stones

takes me to the bottom of the river

that runs through the heart

of my city. to sink that far,

I empty my lungs of all my songs.

they are as empty as sugarbowls

and as purple as figs. the space

around me vibrates with the world to come.

these buildings shudder. they are

not at all what they set out to be.

without tenants, they are flooded.

the tin ceilings sag. they do not shine.

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