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Temple City Listens to Orlando
Temple City listens to Orlando
Neon wraps temple spires
glowing against the dusk
of vacancy. It’s here we claim
place—the desert calm of
a temple city. Shrouded in
exile, pulled from golden trumpets,
a rhapsody of the blessed and
the blues riffs of apostates.
If only a choir could bellow
into our organs, harmonize hymns
through our hearts, push compassion
beneath skin. If we only had a sign,
an arrow of direction, a revelation
unveiling the briny depths,
the salt of the lake, of the ocean.
What kind of room is this?
The drawer in the side table
shouts in tongues, bleeds to be opened,
shutters at footsteps in the hall.
The sleepy patron rolls to his side,
pulls back the covers and stands
to draw the drapes shut.
How can anyone sleep
with the buzz, the flickering
#Unreal #Poem #Pulse #Tribute #Orlando
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