it was the kick out of the blankets
like a bronco out barbed-wire gates,
white-tailed and thrusting all of my
weight to my pelvic region, breaking
off splinters from a metallic rose,
that instilled a sort of super-serious-
sense in me that, for all the confusion
in the Midwest concerning dinner
meaning lunch and also supper,
my time zone never does matter,
that time is a super-serious looking
painting, and mine to color as I please.
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