overland take my hand again
for a ready repose from
preprogrammed packaged poetic fodder
insufficient for the purposes
of contemporary contemplatives
extraneous intransigencies
carpet-bomb those last stages of arrogance
in the unworthy teenage wannabe
he’s nothing to write home about
consider clichés
that way they’ll get it
we were always the masters of our craft
until the small raft crashed
enlightenment crass seeking home in a handbasket
but then there it was
next to the baguette and a bottle of wine
on the flat lake the sunlit green
and yellow ochre hill reflected
wavering as illusions of water will
even without wind
the moon hidden behind
the clear mirror blue sky
so strange for air
to have color
lakeside on your own
the boys there side by stitched side
swimming end to muddy end
the last time an enemy was a friend
that kind of acceptance takes youth
then it takes youth
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