Saturday, July 18, 2009

A Sonnet Concerning My Brain

The night you killed the faceless boy we ran
into our car and drove beneath the land.
A school of fish began to crowd our lane,
you whispered fast, "I'm sane, I'm sane, I'm sane."
In India we built a bungalow
and hid from civil cuffs, the marching row.
We pranced in floppy hats and skirts that drug-
and ate and drank- from tusks we made a mug.
Our powered hearts and eyes would not sit still--
Those rhythmic drums and ticking clocked the thrills.
You said Polanski hid beneath the ice,
and elephants made India so nice.
Your jungle bracelet broke from pelting rain,
I roll down hills. I'm sane, I'm sane, I'm sane.

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