Jan/10

4

What Remains

The sleeping mind arises.
It reconstructs pictures into meaning.
Flashing lines appear from the dark.
I learned subtraction until I was full.
Leaving the movie I drive off
Into the screen where all
The clowns died laughing,
And so we go to
The funeral of pregnant pauses.
At this juncture I’ve forgotten
More than I ever knew.
Stepping through the theatre crowd
Carrying the last plastic flowers
The vendor had we shiver
Before the machinery now cold
Under starlight.

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William Cowan

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