Briefly

Birds still perch      
in the fruit garden branches      
of a world that’s dispensed      
with culture.      
It will, regressive     
live for the day    
chase-off the birds      
drive fast      
and just look-up the rest.      
Dreams that fell to the sublimated leaves      
are a past wasted, passed      
to a painpill army of television skeletons.      
     
This girl in the passing shade      
with her hollow face      
and gray shadow spread across her cheeks,      
despite our time that's passed for love,      
will be here with me      
but briefly.