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Jim
Knowles
Gesso
It's darker every day, outside my window.
When will the first lasting snow come,
cover drab duns and grays,
wipe the canvas white for another new year?
When will the air swing a razor,
slice the scent of home from clothes,
cut shimmer and haze from the sky,
so the stars are steady overhead,
so the moon makes your face a statue?
When will the midnight birches glow,
like legs reaching up from the earth,
where two tracks meet
in the middle of the forest?
When will the steam from our mouths
stop
and swirl down from our noses,
lungs like bellows,
blowing fire on lips and bodies?
Red will be the first color
on the gesso.
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Jim Knowles is an engineer
living in the woods in Mass. He grew up in Maine, runs on multiple
muses, and can be seen and heard in various Mipo outlets, and at
area hoots and open mics. |
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