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                           Soir Bleu, 1914

                           what does that clown
                           sat at the table with
                           cigarette oblivious
                           to blood-wounded eyes?

                           my goodness, I hadn’t
                           noticed, sat here with
                           only a towel to wear,
                           no wonder I cannot drink

                           am a Chinese lantern made
                           flesh immaculate borne of the
                           minds of my un-talking parents
                           sat before a clown with empty carafe

                           me, I could paint a picture of this all
                           but the hills are dark behind my mind
                           and roll downstream continuously
                           out of frame





blue & eyes wormhole: com- / mute
Edward Hopper & river & years wormhole: Compartment C, Car 193, 1938
evening wormhole: zok! and pow!
hills wormhole: dream 260815
mind wormhole: Evening Wind, 1921
silhouette wormhole: now, the verticals go down as well as they go up
table wormhole: the art of sit and follow
thinking wormhole: let the dreams / become the ghosts they / always were