40,000 flies

tornby a temporary wind

wecome back together again

checkwalls and ceilings for cracks and

theeternal spiders

wonderif there will be one more

woman

now

40,000flies running the arms of my

soul

singing

Imet a million dollar baby in a

 5 and 10 cent

store

armsof my soul?

flies?

singing?

whatkind of shit is

this?

it’sso easy to be a poet

andso hard to be

aman.