http://www.albany.edu/offcourse/
Best To All ... I suppose,
Owl
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Closer
sunset baked the good good citizens,
a whole valley of them,
all flavored different the same.
AC’s whirred on coal-bound volts.
And so the swelter of sublets and let's-not
played on.
all-too-often jetliners
owned the ambient decibels.
in a corner of the emulsified sky,
astounded and isolated,
a pair of hawks threaded.
after they capered off,
flies in the amphitheaters of the kitchens
provided drama,
or the diasporic house spiders,
steadfast in their lank mezzanines.
(no one wanted to notice
the lickspittle obedience of ants,
migrated from scalded dirt
to cooler cornucopian parlors.)
later
sigh sigh sigh
crows whittled the sun away,
tired and cranky
with their switchblade punk wings.
while the azure drained, when the game changed,
Fibonacci throngs of cutpurse caws
congealed to superimpose a whirlpool
over the effluence of brake lights.
the city wasn’t supposed to be
this trudging phlegm of cars.
this assembly line of tired faces
hung inside frames like cyborg portraits.
orange, grim, and cherry glows,
sunset's last triumph,
splashed across the lack-of-smiles,
right through the blinkered spectacles
and the windshield blinders.
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"Closer" ... rhymes with poser.
(poem edited since pub)
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