what the hell you are talking about
finding in the moment

in the arbitrary face of it

To turn away from everything but the twenty-six — or not that

To turn from the norm I’m not what the first not even the latest.

Would I let in objects. Well there are some nouns even concrete.

Nothing to say about the turnstile but in the slow pivot even

Shudder at the empty windy end. Steel. What will clear speech.

Of its lazy gesture of its cough of the night we needed care.

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