Life's Velocity [Week's News Poem by Khakjaan Wessington, October 19, 2012]
As the cat beside the radiator
I'm the closest to division.
I've velocity. I'm equal
To my coffin, car, whatever it is.
Out the window on the shoulder
Of the freeway lies a garbage bag or
Is it buck and is he sleeping
In the burger wrapper burial grounds?
Those guts—raccoon as pinata.
Canine my former enemy lies,
Plays disassembled and dead now.
Hell, I can't judge, I'm desiccated.
Dried and preserved, I'm the kitty
Essence that napped and drowned in the smoke.
Once it was warm. I unfolded
Under the shade, awaking to fog.
The clouds descend upon us
Whilst we dream of ourselves
In youth, beneath the endless.
Even now I am there.
“Barely a year after Steve Jobs passed away, a psychic is claiming that she’s in contact with the co-founder of Apple, and that all is apparently not rosy.”
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