Cities and suburbs, real and imaginary.

Friday, April 7, 2017

Sonnet #169

I know how to live, but not how to stop,

I wake, I breathe, I fill my mouth with water
The aches and creaks I cultivate and fodder
Keep me grounded, while I close crop
The weeds upon my skin, and scrape
The chaos off that always stinks like empty
Houses filled with rainwater, plenty
of time spent smelling good, all us great apes
Must dress ourselves, and leave the room
We know how to live, it's moving through
The tasks at hand, keeping up the zoom
of everything, maintaining houses (make room
Make room for more life) struggle on to
the next room, the next room, (make room)

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