The Lungs Themselves

By | 1 April 2010

You will hear
in the expanding lungs.

Each breath forgets the last
and thus the question

is how to do
in this small room.

There is the desire
to abandon the city.

The people live as birds
tapping on surfaces.

One morning I woke
and stopped for minutes.

There is a sad in speaking:
a crushed castle, sold dog.

The cause in fact is in our
mouth, and in the word

we speak in secret.
A question is what to say

when the whole freaking
comes on down upon

the blockbusting world
and especially when it

doesn't. There is the fear
sometimes of sleep

and the thickness
in the waking head.

The disaster is
it doesn't know this room.

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