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Derek Pollard

With Ever in Denver



First we touched down on the asphalt

Of Denver then I moved out into

The crowd of Denver there seemed no

End to the people jostling about

In Denver even in the well–heated

Dome of the airport in Denver

Dusting the bones of the first peoples

Of Denver toasting their ghosts with

Two whiskeys in Denver broaching

The irony and shame of Denver

There in the bar where it was warm

In Denver sitting above the white noise

Of the concourse in Denver Ever

And I and our drinks making little

Sense of the cosmology of Denver

The burp and the belch of the first

Shudder of Denver the wind–whirling

Briskness of the evening in Denver

The streetlights and gaslights and tilting

Grids of Denver the basements and

Tenements lining the plug–hole heart

Of Denver and the free margaritas

At Moe’s in Denver talking with Dan

Over queso while looking out at

The arcade of Denver watching

Baseball and horse races in the glass

Windows of Denver and then Ever’s

Apartment on Sherman Avenue

In Denver candles and red pillows

And Klimt in Denver lying on

A futon in the frozen morning

Of Denver listening to fallen leaves

Scrape against the slick pavement

In Denver to car engines chortling

To a start in the down below of

Denver to birdsong ricocheting

Off walls and windows in Denver

To the crash and the crush of the

Cityplace Denver all in the first

Trembling light across Denver



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