Comparative lit

Sometimes, he said
in the middle of a frenzied conversation
of what parodic Zizek meant
I would suddenly make
my mental exit
& be in that place
where the sea lapped my feet
& wind-tousled my hair.
Sometimes, he said,
in the middle of a spirited huddle
of how the area
should be mapped out
I would suddenly make
my mental exit
& be in that place
where buddies lazed at Seattle Coffee
& flowed with the rhyme
& reason of the city.
There are tasks to be done, he says.
Here in this place
where we turn into leaves of trees
& crystal sheet of rain
Army Rangers just cigarettes away –

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