Saturday, March 7, 2009


#43 Proteus

Broken English spoken
In slanted Paris a tumbled
Light piled in a French heaven, lovers
Marched in blue kerchiefs whilst
Men with no faces slumbered at noon.

Smoky pier at matin,
The acid air reached
At teeth pretending at

What was meant?
What spattered hands spilt
Their heaven, sipping incense
Smeared with white to
Shake the pleasers?

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