alba
a cloud is passing in the window
thicket of mushroom-top
chimneys from a single root
I will cease the silent assaults
I will desist from borrowed lingo
one thing I may not avoid
sexual self-harassment
but I will try
        a drink, an ale
in cavern of artistic vegetation
alba lights my night to self
revelation, collapse, tinker with
sentiments in cold police car blue       






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The East Village Poetry Web
Vincent Katz