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All poems: copyright by
Nicholas Gordon
Free scrapbook poems
permission to use
provided by the author. |
Seventeen pounds heavy in the base
Exactly ten feet from the danger sign.
Vandals had less chaos-lust than these
Ecstatic children of our mores and malls.
Now they tumble, burning, molten steel
To their molds like white-hot waterfalls,
Empty, plunging hearts too sheer to freeze
Each time the lights go on, the worlds align,
No wall of sound across one's ravaged face. |
