(no subject)

May 16, 2010 01:53

We are feral and better yet, we are plain.
The war inside is a dauggerotype; it
is spectral photography whittled into
a wooden spoon or perhaps a soup ladle.
Quietly, humming our own, new national

anthem-I am off key but am determined
to hit that high D (I think?) at the climax.
This is surprising, how quietly I am
singing. I am aware, I must breathe low. There
are more pressing matters, such as remembering:

We are feral and better yet, we are plain.
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