Wednesday, October 16, 2013

AEOLUS

How can it
be—that the same 
rush of quicksilver

wind out there motivating 
berserk swarms 
of blackbirds—and

acres 
and acres of itchy tree 
branches 

to such 
wild and irrepressibly 
frantic mazurkas!—

is the same 
one that currently 
commands this old 

mug clutching 
Styrofoam 
cups as he putters 

down 
endless long hall-
ways of co-
workers muttering—

something 
or other 
about—some weather! 
we're having?

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