On the hot afternoons
the locus whirring
is so loud and unending
all across the valley
I think I will go mad.
I begin to rage
toward them with resentment,
but then I remember
all the extravagant, unnecessary,
sanity-unraveling spectacles
I have enacted in my own
search for love.
3 comments:
How incredibly beautiful...
At first I didn't like it and then I got to the end and I loved it loved it.
I read this poem to friends and clients and strangers off the street.
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