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Excerpt from Four for Glenn:
from "Song of the Andoumboulou:
42"
in memory of Glenn Spearman
What we rode was a book. We
fell out of it, scattered.
The book fell out of my
hand while I slept. Page
upon page upon page
nodded
out on... Fell from the
hero's
hand on the page I gripped,
never to be read again
or, if ever, only were I to awake...
Walked each with an arm around
the other's waist, weathered
hell, heaven's andoumboulouous
remit... Me the hero, we the
dream come true I'd leave off |
