Vague thoughts like smoke clouds
Amidst dire warnings and praise
What am I to do?
Music tells my love
here now in the pulse and beat
I find Lakashim.
Freeway overpass--
Blossoms in graffiti on
fog-wrapped June mornings
Dallas summer song:
cicadas whir, the
sirens call
The inbetween times
When thought and sense take their form
When I know myself.
M.J McGuire-Curry
Various dates, 2007
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