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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ENIGMA

It begins as it always begins when the mind has blown itself astray, below the bruised ashtray of New York, New York headlines where– at the top of a Bushwick Fire Escape as a matter of fact– a pigeon pecks at his post, at a... Continue →