Disposable Lines

Cold slows down
         the ink flow
   across this universe
                  of traffic
   by my window
         elegance measures
   the field
              “Vem pra cá deusa do amor”
   repeated by
      a shared stasis
 of branches
         from family guile
 who take forms
      of my tears
  when these
 return production
   standards – journalism
Žižek on Obama in the LRB

(11.19.08)