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But in the gutter where I slept for so long
There, those dreams I mouthed spun grimy songs
Leaping like sorry flames in the crooked
Smell that I had made as my mute country

The passport I had signed for my inner life
Was hewn from nothing more than love
A calligraphy so bold that the heart I gave it
So easily bled like a tide of nameless names

Once that "other me" whose empty sea-shell
I now look back (if the blind could look) and see
Would course with a thousand vituperatives
That would happily drop with the lust of bombers

And now! Now the leaves drop around me
The streams run beside and under my nobody
The mountains laugh at the sight of longing
Tucked so kittenish in the fading pulse of her

© David Incoll 2001

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Copyright by David Incoll 2001