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Moving On

Jesse Zuba

I’ll take your rain things.
Here it’s whatever you want that counts.

This is Mr. Coffee. This is Georgia O’Keeffe.
Black Spot, I believe. New corporate logo’s
in the works. An asterisk is what it used to be.
On behalf of the whole floor, welcome.

Who you know goes without saying,
and how you look a long way.

Of course there are circles
within circles, but that’s everywhere.

Those on top are said to like
thick skins. Which isn’t a bad thing

in the annals of this troglodyte.
You never know whose year it is.

Not to be metaphysical, I hope.
Water falls day and night

in the oasis of fake palms and real dirt.
It goes down the stone face

and through a hole disguised
as the mouth of a big fish in a small pond.

It moves up, spills, shimmers again.
Some days mist gets in your eyes.

Put yourself at ease. There’s a point
everyone files past carrying water.