Friday, March 29, 2019

A crapped-on flying saucer
taking off into the galactic underbrush.
Cranking and grinding lights
bending circular walls.
Streamers of torn trash
whipping electronic speech
out of the wind.
Water squeezed into pellets
that hologram an empty territory.

Waves licking at the faint pill dispenser.
Soaps flowing around a suffocated eyeball.
Tunnels of sandy ribs pushing plastic molds:
a crater's mouth for the seated assembly
the prisoner's chain of pearls.

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