Babysbreath and broken roses.
Fingers snap : flower stems, brown and brittle —
one two three four five.
One hundred black flies, a-buzz in a briefcase.
Violins sharp as arctic breath rise
to drive color from the pepper trees.
Wear your hat cocked, kid.
Sole leather wears thinner
than film.
[Jump cut.]
Sunday, February 11, 2007
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