pause
inside the everyday

seventy-seven years
under the skull
a spiked star

the record turns

voices in vinyl
summon the dead

Breezewood
Dallas basement
ten dollars
seven years

her arm around the madman

Atlantic crossings

mind stretched
between continents

Maryland soil

no stone from me

the rain keeps singing

the old singer
turns eighty-five

on the yoga mat
I receive them

the dead
the almost living

love wounds
time listens

the record
keeps spinning