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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ARTICHOKE for JAMES FRANCO

My revered friend and esteemed colleague of ten years: a brightly decorated commander from the Military Council of Special Joint Affairs, a quite majestic, numinous branch, was wearing his prized plastic beige-to- aubergine sombrero,... Continue →