In An Empty Adjacent Corridor
In an empty adjacent corridor, the light
From the sun, rising over Nashville, steady
And slow, synchronizes underground country.Movements of my Wednesday night limbs
On a Thursday morning make words worth: slur.
Julia’s twisted up in the bedroom linen.
The power of censorious years
It is winter and in Nashville, the antennas
In a split level ranch I know, I know
Julia. Julia wake up and intrude with me
Julia, it is winter and in Nashville an empty adjacent corridor
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