in the toilet bowl
the wounds they cause in matter
before the swirl descends
a labyrinth in a lion's mouth
screens blaring over selected highways
southern ruts erupting to the frigid north
the fruits of many canyons
in their tentacled sheen
places of dreaming rest
that undulate like oceans
leaves of a stained map
gathering in darkly gleaming piles
eyes of the night that have
an inner light like nuclear arms
spirits that haunt a certain architecture
bone tables holding granite wings
above the pipes that sing.
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