Tuesday, January 03, 2017

Hillsides crammed with
cabins on a scorched edge
hillsides mapped by blowjob sites
and wheelbarrow routes
hillsides run with beer discarded
cans and tiny bottles running with trash
sand and ash eat the altars
embers blacken on the bouncing stairs
the tops of her feet are hillsides
collapsing in my eyelid's thump.

Circuits over the tar paths
suggest stars.

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