Despite my urgent need to tap into something
that is necessary for my time, I am left with a vision
of numbers. My pagan blood and sleeping moments
on the beach. Why do I still want to be Jimmy Buffett? 

Idle and brutal from all eternity, like Rimbaud, sitting
on a park bench with my two best friends.

The wind blowing. The day glowing. The moment in love
with every other moment that has ever existed. 

Three daydreamers, no older than five, gazing at the one
thing which interests them most.

George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, NY. His work has been included in such publications as the Hazmat Review, Moria Poetry Journal, Chronogram Journal, Ampersand Literary Review, the Angle at St. John Fisher College, and 3:16 Journal. George’s blogs, essays and letters have appeared in the USA Today, Wall Street Journal, the Atlantic, the Havana Times, the South China Morning Post, the Buffalo News, and more. 

See all his poems on Tea House here.

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