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
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
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 →