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July 08, 2005
all the dead winds
ordinary rustling
amongst the vipers
and cracked leaves
oak limbs
and crushed sparrows
line the deserted side streets
that no one dare navigate
light sockets
listless and dark
observe the silence
without casting
shadows
soda cans jingle
across broken asphalt
pressed lazily
by the dead winds
left in the wake
of the storm
the milk is turning
the thermostat is rising
the lines
are dead
the worst
is slow
in coming
Posted by Drexler at July 8, 2005 03:48 PM