Saturday, February 7, 2009

Folding Stars

Telemachus 22

The void before Marcellus
Kneeling beneath his gods
Again and again asking for meaning
While voices of those
Vigilant angels, mocking
this rare chemistry.
The listening country singing
The cold masters fleeing
Surely valentine’s bodies waiting
Their Roman lances piercing
Applause within the fiber

Now all the detached apostles
Are left to blame.

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