My Favorite Things
spiraling off incense
sticks My Favorite Things Coltraneian
left one shoe in a raga in
Harlem
Lady Morphine in A-Minor
this sleep in longing
what the hell's with these
birds? my left head turns
the falling upwards of
feet not mine and a half-smoked cigarette
not fair the song doesn't
exist unless I hear it
between the bricks a view
to another dance
tuck me in with a needle
in your eye
dressed in flames she
merges with organs
singular plurality music
bound by time and trouble
carving a shenai from a
bone once in God's thought
household fairies in
ampuls barely glass
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