Jason Wilkinson

I spent those years close
upon the rail fenced
like so much bobtail and claw
swollen metal housing
velvet daytime
leers through the blanched
mesh of cigars downtown
everything is being painted fingers
dodge up the beaded glass cantering
along the track everything is
heavy and broken
measured for slim bags
within which the Phoenix lurks,
Pandora in her long gown winking
holiday fumes curled
risen beyond the grate.

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