Wednesday, September 24, 2014

CAUGHT BETWEEN

Like warm 
only wetter—a reared nestling;
the next 

to last one—

headless,
bristling—though no longer 
bedraggled

by foggiest intimations 
of saline bluegray;

its soft fraying spine—
clammy,
primitive,

over-conspicuous—
folded perfectly 

neatly—inside its
gold coffin—this intelligent 

tin—of delicious 
salt brine.

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