jayivan

Friday, June 15, 2012

Yammer-stammering,
The cocaine brigades don’t dance
no more: they grow fat.

Dance, my city dance.
Reclaim the dark light, bodies
Rock the night in flight.

posted by jayivan at 11:21 pm

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I cry on trains and
taxis speeding away from
the possible me.

The thing that remains:
a slight reflection painted
on passing landscapes.

posted by jayivan at 5:31 am

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