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The stepping stone never leaves its footprint. The stone begat by stone, stone with its placard, Washington, to paraphrase, passed here on his way somewhere else. Where a tree came and went, the road forks. The sun pulling out its last sword, speaks color the way color does: tongue in the eye. Warm as a puddle of blood over the town, the light stains the faux colonial façades, the umbrellas like bones collapsing. It wine-lights the coats ducking into shops, startling mannequins in their glass sepulchers. The sun lopped off, lops off the shadow of me. Darkness crawls into a field of itself. Time was, I was a boy in this town. Time was and I cannot get a word in edgewise. Today is yesterday in buffalo time. The end of another workday for the dragonfly marauding the stagnant pond for iridescence. Discard for the raccoons eating human garbage. It’s whistling time under these noctilucent clouds. elegy for the present moment [ 9 ] ...

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Additional Information

ISBN
9781587294457
Related ISBN
9780877458609
MARC Record
OCLC
56109477
Pages
68
Launched on MUSE
2012-01-01
Language
English
Open Access
No
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