glassy eyed
from the beginning
of a photo
outline of the teacher
when I closed my eyes
in yellow
operational jam
insisting on some kind of dayflow
and correspondence
knifing letters on an open desk
in krishnamurtis old room
next up a
stone dream
a play practice
on a presbyterian lawn
barred off by
mountains lions
L.A. after all
formations in the
singers and staircases
burnt homecoming in the groves
I washed the
cold clouds
I watched
I watched it watch
over me
trying to say murder in
a poem trying to say church
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