Currency of yes

Currency of yes


exchange rate rises between borders

changes hands like doves do

its feathers work the crowd

it’s the don quixote in station back-rooms

shekels for the weary

dirham for the pure and the almost sane

take me where the words are

lead me out of the dark

press with me against the wall

of this blue luminescent cave


on flags of that cave’s principality

stamp shadows of counterfeit statues

find the one with the plinth

it’s very tall

more so than your tallest lover

and climb it on the hour

you’ll be a different person every time

sleep to the beat if you like

the guards won’t let you fall

outdo Nelson

in his faux heroic elevated efflorescence

blue man

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