Saturday, October 23, 2010


Lightning is the God of Again.

He strikes no place twice from above

As long as the clouds don’t bear rain

And heat remains frictionless love.

Air, God of Now, fills each tulip

Like a sun not subject to shade,

With love makes the balloon pop

And sees the dead carcass decayed.

The God of And is in the dust

Blown from soil, blown from flower,

Clinging in the storm clouds where lust

Of Now for Again breeds the hour.

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