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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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