Friday, July 12, 2019

Fronds of tucked propellers
sucking the air and long sloping passages
down to an orange whirlpool.

Tacked-up days losing grip
upon rippling plaster
floating in a gutter that glows
stubbed resilient embers
and jagged vertebrae
the milk of thudding batteries
and sighing infant mouths.

Delicate blood cells plowing
a runway of blades.
Gills of the lid that turns
on a swollen fire.

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