about and from these
a cupboard of horses and stars commingling without the tinny resonance of

feels as likely to be

one of the scurriers or one of the sick on mats

and both

rushing to beg mercy of the odd one lost on his own

people

as it feels to be in the world with or without shoes

debris

rattling down chutes to heartbroken buckets or queries

of how

anyone might climb up from the miserable questionable id

for what

a little french accordion said after some rainy fun-time

there’s no

food in this part of town take the children to the interior

where so

many items await our vast and disproportionate consumption

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