three flags wildly flapping and clapping loudly in the midnight breeze
I am casually rolling home wearing a garland of garbage and leaves
there is a dull wet stink of life and
it is pierced by the breeze that gesticulates the flags fiercely
and scattered it
like a snow globe
is a terrible ordeal which blinds you like a swarm of locusts
until it finally settles down.
there is righteousness tonight in each place I put my shoe
I am the saint of this boulevard
stooping low I reach out my hairy hand and pinch between my thumb and my forefinger
a lowly worm
fleeing the flooding of his home
but the flooding is abated
and he is a blind man in the desert with: a very limited supply of water
I pick him up and bring him home,
like a child running away from home and this time it’s real
but it’s also a mistake
and I’m saving the day.
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