[ToC]

 

WHAT ART IS LEFT

Jaime Brunton

Here is a hungry animal afield
Here is my love with thorns in her hair

And from this music What is an enemy
but that which does not sing Perhaps

there is no silence even where
we hold our breath in the dark of our

American cars our woods our drab
fluorescence What art is left but these

devotions none beyond reproach

 

 

 


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