refuse to fall
they have a premonition
of what might come tomorrow
the streets want a drink
but the bartenders have all gone home
and anyway
poison and glory can be well disguised
and not something
an anonymous life
will consciously crave
where
will the sewers run to
how
does a storm find its wayto a promised land of no dimensions
a new marina has little to do
waiting for what comes next
there's
no advice for broken dreams
'cept
to say that every stone in this river
will eventually turn over
and face the rage
before the deluge
---
e b bortz
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