Issue |
 |
January |
|
a poem by Mat Gould (2 of 2)
to whose law must we abide
the dust
had
settled
so
we kicked it back up
who
needs
smoke
to breathe?
of
course
there is a dream
but
I am
sitting on the steps
looking at a sunset
more
than
burning
itself
deep into the wilderness
heaving
this
evening
into
its own burlesque existence
as
I
go
back inside
and
look outside
every
so
often
upon what will soon adhere
to
the frigid twilight
had
settled
so
we kicked it back up
who
needs
smoke
to breathe?
of
course
there is a dream
but
I am
sitting on the steps
looking at a sunset
more
than
burning
itself
deep into the wilderness
heaving
this
evening
into
its own burlesque existence
as
I
go
back inside
and
look outside
every
so
often
upon what will soon adhere
to
the frigid twilight