leave me real roses on my doorstep ................As more leaves turned yellow,
remember? ...........................and the death of the summer's green grass
the wheat from the chafe ......................was readily apparent in the brown rounded hills,
truncated dark days.........I looked for messages from Gunter and believed that I found them
never have too many......in the bottle of tobasco that mysteriously appeared in the tin container
in the proper places.....
where I kept my small stock of food
followed me to school one day ..................in the words on the belly of the low flying plane overhead
brown grass on the hills...on the American tourist's tee shirt
stirring up its contents.........glimpsed in the lobby of the American Express Office
the banks are made of marble ................in Via Guicciardini
narrow streets paved with well worn stones................ stirring up its contents............................... background noise............ on the belly of the low flying plane............. in their open mouths.............. the smell of green grass.... warm sun......................... a small stock of food........................ moving fingers on a keyboard............................ making things.................... outside the walls of Ocatillo....................... making love...................... blue jeans......................... steaming plates of pasta...................... never know why............... cold damp grass.............................. a long walk into town.......................... while Mary and Trevor looked on............. a dark corner.................... walking............................. riding................................ the horizon........................

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