DECEMBER 20

Maybe a panorama slapstick?
Hard Times Song of Annunciation:
see-saw rail refugees,
and sad country song-singers
walking lolled and taped,
prophetic, earning apostles'
tearfalls.

Flowers context round the wounds.
Black scrapes of acute metallic
distraction. Pain is of the true
full steady guitjo sideways
strums.

Hanging out of consciousness,
and outside, outside always
approaching boundaries waxed
or worse things within territories
intimate.
Hummed out, lost quickly.
The physical thing- that
ephemra and proof, right?
Newcomers, the tracks are on fire sometimes.