UNIDENTIFIED CRAFT

A map in the shape
Of a kite scans over
The land it paints

Nodding to the strings
That no one sees
Though they be de-

tached–God’s hand
Nevertheless
Beats me tirelessly

 
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REAPER

Out from beneath the red eye of some whirlwind’s squall Of (yes) dandelions and ballerinas, I found myself, yet again, Cracked bright by that religious instant If not needled out of the sunlight’s squint–spit quite Beyond the semblance... Continue →