a poem for today

On 1st Looking

Just because in a fever, looped into this breathing
overcoming lots of dim time, a thing of beauty
has gotta be a joy for ever, it ain’t got no choice:
nearness closes a star’s watch: a waiting amaze.

Killed by living, w fluvial bright verbal flash,
even more excited, by surface shimmer yell: & then
a tossed indicator for slashing fire orange glow-purposes...
Tremendously or, socio-hidden.
Speaking pulse data, polishing (that vivid, a tactile sky

John Keats was born on October 31

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