dennis phillips



from Studies in Fourteen Lines


Sant' Egidio

Wanting only dogma
asleep at the master's elbow
the city always white

vineyards pictured when someone mentions surface
wanting only postcards of towers
of open cities where only arrivals are marked

road early fog banks
Umbrian fields by the city’s shimmer
wanting a certain doctrinal air
steps mid-mountain to the gates

“The doors are locked?” a helper says.
“Tonight the owners eat with us.
“Inside the toolshed’s their grand table.
“Knock tomorrow. Someone will answer.”











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