Aquarius

The book does not end on its close;

on its final period on its final page:

the book rolls over its spine unto its

cover and rewrites; mixing the hard

font of the title and tiny handwriting

of the copyright; chapters restroked,

leafs unbound, as lies are scratched

out and restored with meaningless

truths and the live quill of humanity:

of life’s most obvious secrets hidden;

or love’s true purpose remembered in

silent alleys or rowdy bars or humid

valleys and atop mountain ranches;

and below roaring streams, drenched,

dodging the protruding rocks, as it

flows out through the celestial water

bearer’s jug unto the woven hair

of earth’s magnificent children.

——————-

This is the 100 Songs Project, a 100-day writing challenge based on AFI’s 100 Years…100 Songs. Every day, I write a short poem, prose piece, or play based on, reacting to, rejecting, accepting, or doing something related to one of the songs in the top 100 list.

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