Drew Gardner
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Ladies and Gentlemen … The Stars!
I
can’t possibly represent the feeling
and
wouldn’t want to
thinking of
my friends searching for love
there are
vagaries can only be
certain
bewilderment, at first machines
become
custodians of
neon organs
across human space
remember
the past we gave up don’t
remember
giving it up, a very young boat exiting
like the
surface of the what between us and it
goes much
deeper than that
is the
shape one lives in
bells on
Bergen and Court
and birds
together
they’re
probably saying the same thing about us
better than
anything anyone
could ever
write or play
I guess
I fucked up
loud
footsteps
that come
from a wrong attitude toward the world
the
cautionary shank of anxiety moves down
from the
shoulders and neck
into the
diaphragm, announced
beforehand,
or described afterwards
doesn’t
move closer, but gets a lot louder
that
isn’t someone’s fault
that’s
a message
moves ahead
of its sound
if you went
there I think
they would
be there
classical,
confederate, gross
but
I’m not sure it’s important
so maybe I
should have bought Bill’s car,
I guess you
have to go there
to not know
if they exist
searches
you out like movements of snow
in the sign
language in the next compartment
as quick as
a jackrabbit
to make it
last
as Duncan
McNaughton has it, the way
the
substance of things is presently real
even into
what you’re not attached to
strange wheat, laughing
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