Moon Man 1
By Toren Wallace

we gaze
backward
at the same ocean
we walk along
the same streets
we herd consciousness/doubt
in droves
correlative
meditative
pristine
dissolute punctuation
wasted clock/spacelost
wallet
fountain pen.

let me
hold you in my arms/soul
caressing the apparition
in the fog
Bruce
Boyd
not of the
body/world
and senseless worth,
lost in the
void
between
Zen
nowhere
and New Jersey.

(whisper
new poem:

murmuring savagery)
ligature marks
figuratively ask foran illusory dialogue
a handkerchief
a private moment.

stacked words like
firewood
dine inside a
picture frame.

we take our seat
we order poems
and drown
in/congruity

river
rocks …………skipped
inwardly
away

effervescent memory
an unfamiliar whore
fastidious.

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