Wednesday, January 09, 2019

In the hurricane's whirlpool
of trees and manufactured things,
an eye is linking bodies
in the sight of unknown worlds.

Highways drifting like plasma lockets
in the surf of competing skies.
Grains of sand that vomit condominiums.
Hoops of starlight making a lasso
for my bones.

Tape dragging the reel
over a long hill.
Boulders bursting
on the bulb of atmosphere,

the paint of dust with blood
rings of the old orbit resurrecting
tender wires through a maze of
phallic antiques.

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