Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Account Sent to Collections

this foul lonely cold front
would not be cheered

not even by the mini-van on North Road
equipped with spinners

no amount of green lights
could ease the hateful feelings

I wanted the flowers to unbloom
retreat back to the black earth

I wanted the trees to give up
to be barren and empty

i wanted gold never to be seen
wanted it to be forgotten

wanted time to reverse
stop--forward--back again

I wanted it to be a turntable
I wanted another beer

most of all
I wanted to go back

pay my credit card bill on time.

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