the mayor

for j.t.
There is rain tonight, that once fell
in patterned rivers starred on edge
with covered torches, silver roads,
but this cold dirt drinks it, and
I sleep tonight with a different name.
Each marble was in green mortar
mayflies bounce on chipped drywall
and the hallway filled with stereos
blaring guitars and heavy drumstick - and
I sleep tonight with a different name.
The [...]

Filed under: verse | Posted on April 24th, 1997 by palmer | No Comments »

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