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Sunday, April 01, 2012

Awake to the goddamn grey
as winter has long ago fallen,

as we are in between storms
dulling the floats in the springtime parade—

conquistadors, airborne manatee,
time-lost Confederate belles—

as skies over Tallahassee briefly open
and the parade is a bridge from shadow to shadow,

from darkness to more darkness,
and any cultural sensitivity is as forgotten

as the last cold snap.