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Stormy Weather

ISSUE:  Fall 2019


How a fuchsia blouse becomes
bougainvillea, or
a pair of greyhounds staggers
into abstraction, zigzag

of an aqua Vespa down the Ave.,
giving glint to a trumpet
swaddled in the driver’s jacket,
its brother muted

in song, in the restaurant,
behind transparent curtains.
It was impossible to see,
in the childhood house, a future,

but it came, this undoing
of the sugar cubes’ paper,
offering pleasure, erasure,
double dose, with rain

blurring a statue’s torso.
One needle plunging through 
the indifferent air,
is there anything lonelier?

A woman sits in a blissed-
out smile of pearls. An
ambulance releases its donkey cry.
Shudder up the spine, as sky-

blue eyes roll back in a head,
flame skidding, near death,
when a door opens for a stranger,
then rises, miraculous, again.



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