Which isn’t to say
That one doesn’t
Wake all day
Just as an honest man
Is always in trouble
The headlines dull
The head while
Eviscerating
The heart, the hand
Draped idiotically
Like a flag over the eyes
Sense redirected
To more immediate peril
Toes turning blue
As the radiator limps
Into its wintry duty
Its indolent waves
Pushing the calendar
Like a wing from the wall
The starlings are fled
The cat is fed
The Carter Family
Pleads Meet me
In the moonlight
Alone, punctured, interloping
Atoms to sustain
Our perceptual escapade
With no hope
Of escape, of winter
I have had enough
When suddenly you arrive
From the overslept bed
Coursing
Within your envelope
Of heat, of course
I love you
As the church bells
Announce the hour
9 o’clock
In their flurry
Of dongs
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