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  Christopher Kelen
   
     

ellipsis

   this plaster, these bricks, this throw of walls
   all will be gone tomorrow

   streets will show up on the mainland
   who knows where?
   will they be recognized, will they be missed?

   myself am the only thing foreign here
   there is no doorway takes me in
   only I can see the difference
   the street I’ve not been down before
   marvelous streets full of medicine, watches
   everything wanted elsewhere

   I look into the dazzle of sparks
   this shop built for a point of light

   stolen cars are resprayed with the shutters up here
   the girls laconic beckoning
   each trade as honest as the others
   everyone here could be related
   a reason why they shouldn’t be?

   you go up the dark stairs, come down the bright
   low wattage and red for luck
   a noose looped wire in the way of descending
   a new street, frayed as the one that’s lost
   the old sun stoic at beams

   faith is a bridge
   being built in to low slung cloud

   so that the air will stir from this grimace

   walls fall in theory
   and make mud again

   sweat speaks of great things

   turns out life might have a simple lesson
   something along the lines of
   ‘water is sweet’



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