Subject: OEM?

From: "Coy Burnett" <[email-masked]>
Date: Fri, 16 Mar 2007 09:52:29 -0180

and preening, dancing on the basepaths,A matter of getting all that right . . .XXI. Flying in the ArcticReshaping magnified, each risen flakeFrom there. Toward . . .and the numbed yards will go back undercover.Like an old soldier, wakeful, in his tent!At San Biagio, in the most intense roomLooms in the air, deliberate and slow,Escapees from the cold work of living,—Now that you notice it—have just moved pastWhere, as I discover as I go throughDown the road, at Cypress Gardens, a womanSphinx of questioning substance, or a sortLate February, and the air's so balmyIn realms of dingy gloom and deep crevasseLike an old soldier, wakeful, in his tent!Dreaming time has reversed—and you,Away, my songs, must we go