Wednesday, September 9, 2015

SYNOPSIS

Walking home—through an
ambivalent city,

all—glum glass and tall
dark loud iron;

you smoke.
And you feel—somehow 

proud to be small,
and not at all 

unlike 
God Almighty—when, 

as a lion in the 
darkness might, 

he first 
roared—and then 

brooded so hard 
upon the cloud

of condensation 
he'd created.

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