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Replying to a comment on:
Balances (sorry for all caps) (Free verse) by zarathustra
AFTER SATURNALIA,
CIGARETTES AND STRAWS, STREAMERS AND SPENT FIREWORKS
COLLECT IN A GUTTER, MUDDLED. NEWSPAPERS TUMBLE DOWN
THE WIND LIKE TODDLERS, PIGEONS PICK
AT THE STREET PIZZA.
EACH SULFUR BREATH MINGLED WITH DEW,
A RAINCLOUD BEFORE ITS BURSTING.
THE AIR NOW MORE PREGNANT
WITH A DARK WET SILK, AND SOOT DECREASE. THIS CONFLUENCE OF LIGHTS,
CONCRETE CONSTELLATIONS OF THIS SKYLINE,
STARS, AND CITY BLENDING,
ALL THOSE SPHERES JIGSAW JEALOUS AGAINST EACH OTHER,
ALL THIS POINTILLISM BLENDS IN THE MIST,
THE RAIN EQUATION
TENOUS IN THE SKY, THE SKIN DRINKS AND DRINKS
THESE BREEZES, WHICH HANG
TEMPERATE ON THE SKIN.
AND THEN A DROP OF RAIN SHATTERS MY BROW,
A WAKEFUL ANOINTING. QUICKLY, THEY DESCEND,
THE TORRENTS THAT POPCORN
IN LIQUID SONG, TONES BANGING PIZZICATA BULLSEYES
IN PUDDLES. THE AIR WILL FRESHEN
AND FARMERS THRESHEN...
AND SOOT DECREASE.
LISTEN, THE LAUGHING DRUMWATERS.
SEE, THE SIDEWALK GO DALMATION IN ITS PATTERN,
GRAY ON GRAY.
FEEL THESE DROPLETS DESCEND,
EVERY DROP BEADS ON YOUR SKIN
AS CARANUBA WAX, WET SILENT RESONANT,
EVERY DROP A CHORD, FLESH RINGING WITH FLAVOR,
SKIN'S MEMBRANE SINGING IN NEWNESS.
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