from nothing a couple of
shakes [seeing god on the train] […] the on/off existence of
villages. flash. can I where
your dog / a face lit by a phone [hush]
your
scent. a lonely-chair. the absence of sky at night
|talk don't talk remind me don't remind me. hold | fructose.
a flock of dolphins at the all night gas station. rain
pass don't pass me by. this tree has leaves in summer
[slept too long the day is
broken] up my nostrils almond oil and your juices add me to
the list of emigrants | your
piece of the ground 25 dog-ends a crushed snail | a fable
about the young earth and a dream of innocence some
Chinese or whatever has woven the fabric we sit on [press “stop”
and mind your luggage] down pressed down. a note with “sor ..”
just
readable
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