is it like last year – the self inside the self? the same lattes, the same late-night girls,working working workingfor ivory schools,jades – and pearls – i can forgive the coffee if it counts towards yale,princeton – oxford –the university of nowhere,un château dans l'air, hiding in front of me,resurrecting what –might have been: the… Continue reading poem: insular
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i could be bound in a nutshell and count it as infinite space if not for these bad dreams
the last pavilion 