odds are stacked against our survival
to be a poet in 2011 is to be an antiquarian
now there is an app that poeticises websites
in whatever metrical construction you may choose
i do not speak well with machines
much prefer the purvey of truly human beings
as long as we can gather against the heat
we will be cool enough to be jazz
an improvised melody that sings in community
whistling as we walk down September 11 streets
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