2016. október 4., kedd

James Tate: Dear Reader

I am trying to pry open your casket
with this burning snowflake.
I'll give up my sleep for you.
This freezing sleet keeps coming down
and I can barely see.
If this trick works we can rub our hands
together, maybe
start a little fire
with our idenification papers.
I don't know but I keep working, working
half hating you,
half eaten by the moon.

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