David Floren


Quale of journeys
Beyond any journey.
I feel it in my belly:
The ownership
Sails at dawn.

Its horn
Fawns the grumpy,
Keepers of tight schedules.
“Prepare for boarding! ”
It toots.

Until then,
A gossamer mauve
Creeps in against a shifting
Navy of dusk, a thick armada,

And luminous time
Stretches its leg-arms out
For a spell,
To dispel
The damn ticking.

Not like a molten
Watch on Dali crutches.

Draped in its serene recliner.
Gladly embarking.

The shiftless
Bliss of gradual

[9-24-07 Berkeley, CA]

Poem Submitted: Sunday, February 10, 2008
Poem Edited: Monday, February 11, 2008

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