Squelched radio chatter indigo rebirth control
No new souls grew on the vine this fallow wearer year
I have seen tomorrow and you are not there
Hermes delayed by hail
Takes shelter in a Starbucks
Orders a mocha cappuccino
Contemplated suicide but left before the rope could drop
There are one million stories in the naked city but only two worth heating
The vineyard is on fire now
There will be no new vintage
Persons unknown to the FBI have sabotaged creation
We have a spot in Guantanamo for them
Hermes now delayed by hail and Starbucks and suicide somnambulism
Hurried into a Walgreens for some no doze
Encountered a cashier with a Hellenistic frown
Said she wanted be to be a writer but had the baby instead
Hermes takes pity and burns the place down
Leaves the cashier a muse wrapped in cellophane
There are ten billion stories on the naked swath of earth
Only three of them lead to heaven.
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