442 3 2
|
Returning word for word, I, in
my nightmare, bore an audience
from the building
|
116534
|
Argus was on to me from the moment I unrolled my mat.
He knew damn well I was in the wrong room,
but he turned blind eyes.
|
286118
|
In this the delicate memory through which the birds haunt
the light, she knows she was not wounded by a rush of blood,
but rather by the flight.
|
111676
|
The faces of the sun remain unaltered across the
seven day forecast.
I am sweat-glued to a poem, looking up at the
wall-mounted TV in a diner in the Valley
|
115375
|
I am no different to her, living seven days ahead
of myself, looking forward to looking back,
as we Irish do so fondly
|
