Wednesday, December 15, 2004

A Poem: Love Song

Take the worst that could happen
And add two zeros.

Our replicas of people and things
Disintegrate in the firestorms.

High fidelity clouds gather overhead.
Their verisimilitude overwhelms the cheap sets.

We are cleared to lift off,
And sort our way between the shrapnel.

The ground rolls away behind us.
You and I.
---o0o---

jack brummet

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