Friday, September 26, 2025

Let Pandora's footnote open.
Let the lesser lights rise from the sea.
All the bird songs belong to one body.

Flying carpets were the way
over the carnal rooms of garish glory.
A beam scanned quick brown rabbits
where the slabs of the dead lay.

Crown foliage of broken souls
bloom without highways,
without language as a buffer
hand down disposable doors,
chains of an antimatter ceiling
and stars so mechanical
buckets of sub lyrical suds.

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