Wednesday, August 23, 2017

Our Lady

of the Landfill.  Albany Bulb.  Last visit over 1-1/2 years ago and She is as powerful & elegant as ever.  Like a memory of the favorite family meal.  Like the first poem that startled & inspired.  An embrace to the good.  You know, She can dance, too.  


1 comment:

  1. Requisitions

    No worries when you hold my hand, shirt newly bleached
    Concrete men disavow their duties and the girls in the gallery
    look on
    New day, born of aggregate and flimsy air
    Long ahead, a ride through the darkness
    Going home, once again

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