Monday, December 31, 2012


Walking west next
to the canal between the water
bodies of lake union

& puget,
bombed out by a messy
cascadian mist,

I, murmuring, wonder
why moss grows topside
on horizontal branches.

I inquire a kilted
cyclist thrushing by.
Through his beard

he says
wanderlust seeks sun
but a dead body

open-casketed for a wake
dries out a chapel
from inside

& the seeds split.

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