fall along
traintracks
wheels turn
in the grips
of gravity
& motion
& the warm embrace
of friction
over the bridge
as the sun
on my black coat
& brwn hat
& scarf o many colors
made by an old lady
in texas i never met--
each wheel
is heavy & round
& bears us down
the incline
further decline of light
in predictable circles.
fall along
fall along
godless & songless, western man dances with the stuffed gorilla through all the blind alleys of a dead-end world.
-maxwell bodenheim
-maxwell bodenheim
- Doreen Peri
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