1298
the wave
jetlag series
the wave
the door
the hole you dig
slip seamlessly
and hope unseen
the skipping on the spot
till trip
must be a lot like being born
two points of view
the tearing
tug
climb tree
cannot help
there’s nothing is another thing
but here we are again
it’s not the door you know
but runs the switch
somehow so in
so out again
slip, scat, scoot
run to and from
the griefs ahead
in there yet
and still I cannot go
passport bruised
the face worn off
must guess the country
it’s not just this old world revolves
see glimmer through
and ride
once crested
come under the colours
cocoon
it cracks
then the roaring
come to me light
giddy
have a topple now
but no
things were smoothed out
steady on
chance passed
new ticket
not my kind of crime
the wave
the door
the hole you dig
a kind of music I can’t help
multifaceted gleam
her reading lamp
behind my lids
halos float saintlessly there
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