a row of nosegays
erupt from the buried
clavicle, debris
dances to fill
a vacuum, water to fill
the hollowed-out
temple. 8 or 9
clouds to fill
the droopy head.
No rope
trick, just a yellow
balloon. Microorganisms'
parthenogenesis, a lifetime
of 2-minute songs
stacked end to end
to end the dance
of Maya, illusion is
as hands must be
hands
to get the record flipped.
1 comment:
amazing poetry.
glad to see you feature at NOPOWRIMO.
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