Monday, July 16, 2007

the candescent edits

old vices sung to the whiff
of congressionalist history
shipped in fifty two drums
of autumn for $7.85 (deal!)
but I’ve lost my hat during
the transfer from Saturday
night rich to Sunday morn
poor in candescent parlors
of newish iron with a weed
sheriff and this macallister
gun distiller from the royal
sobriquet city where ladies
are usually tossed in pools

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