KEHRWIEDER

September 30, 2017

(Poems about Objects in Despair 3)

 

 

Glass sheets in layers

Ice paper lucid don’t break

A rolling inhale you’re ready

to suck them in or

throw them off with a

steam of sounds a whiff

from the outside world

You’re double, a non

space shift away from

each other, empty between

dirt and concrete, the

mindless spot, the tapping

of feet in elevated thought

no dogs, no skates, no bikes.

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