twin palms

People passerby
in the afternoon sun
twin palms at my side
I don’t worry none, no
I’m sittin’ on top of the world.
drinking my piñon
as the harmonica plays,
the other day
I didn’t know my own name
but I see now
the reflection, as I read
the buried poems
of a 60-year
old prince, dressed
in black, he wears
a derby hat
too.

we’re coming

two,

we’re marching

true, we’re singing

rest assured
we’re coming

back to you.

 

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