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This fascination with marbles,
smooth pebbles - anything
to tame the earth
because gravity is a six-foot
dungeon
No sense defying, the weight
can't wait, so handful
in his pockets, he keeps himself ready
and the preening current,
(Ms. Woolf was watching a pebble
thud, thud, thudding at her feet
as she combed for the last time)
Hours here roll by, bleeding sun sets
the day, and he lives to sigh, sigh, sigh
to the singsong assault of jackhammers
break, break, breaking the walls
of his room
Tonight he will let the cat out,
then starve the fish in the aquarium,
he needs more
space for these
long elephant days
the river can wait