this is…

May 18, 2009

This is

A Poem, written on
a daytime planner
in Seattle, in a bar,
in the rain, with a
friend, who is underage,

and probably wondering, day-
dreaming, what the fuck
we are doing here, in the
absence of sunlight, or
strategy or stablility, or foresight, or
a social safety net, which
has been whittled away by

a pioneering spirit and
fiscal responsibility, because
Jesus would have wanted it this way,
even though he lives in

It’s full of arctic magic.


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