Monday, May 02, 2005

earth note 29

sometimes the smallest things become the scalpel
a cutting edge without precision
a frenzied path past the main organs
left intact yet disconnected

an old brown towel wiped our bodies
bodies of a tribe in the desert
then swiped our bicycles down
leaving the sands of mesada
buried in thick stained cotton

until yesterday
grains of millennia marking faint white tracks
on my forearm
your signature was clear

--- e b bortz

(published in Tight, volume 8, #1, Summer 1997)
(published in ArtCrimes #20, 2002)

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