Monday, March 23, 2015


Fling wall-pieces
        mortar to parchment of time
    to the floor of echoes
       to the resounding board
  where we fall our lips are a word void
  they speak it into the fullness
   like a goblet against a wall
  these are the people falling and
   tumbling across the words
  suffering puncture-wounds
      from these words and dying

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