Sunday, November 8, 2015
Day 392 September 12 2015 Noon
The gardens have no tears left to water them;
the mowing madness of gasoline
engine-hordes have run through the ecumene...
All solar schizophrenia lay out
around the thunder-struck Jerusalem
bush, red now in this leech time of autumn.
The grass is dead like selfie-bleeding
celebrities awaiting the compost
cenotaph of fame.