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Wednesday, November 19, 2003

Episode #7

In time a messenger on
bike delivers the
news you wanted:

The sun is moving from the green
off the interstate
where a girl in a tan jumpsuit

rides in the back seat
cold to her father and mother,
glimpses your house as she

passes.



Epsiode #8 (title scene)


Wanted to be alone that night, not in an exhaustion
but in sleep, carbine sleep, where folks come and kiss you
like repeat offenders. It’s this kiss, unforgettable,

the kind of kiss (this one particular kiss) in a dream where
you are in fear of being swallowed, a happy fear you can’t let
go, apple-soda taste your noses touch the others' cheek and

happy to wake but as time passes the desire to sleep on,
alone in a room off the interstate where
wheels leave brake dust and a tow truck arrives

to reclaim tin.



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