BARREN OF PINES
Inchoate the idea that I'll have
something to put down
to approximate the perfume
of eucalyptus my sludgy operations
I'm a zoo subsumed under a mudslide
A tossed trio of ships rising in inkwell illustration
awash in bounced wavelight Everything major
but the times I catch it Seldom the intensity
of the rescue a matchhead igniting
on the eighth or ninth strike
If I could build a city or thread a pasture with grasses
I'd admit I love the city but confess
I love the grasses more where thunder storms
rains flash kindling at the ready
& here I go pining for the end
TYPO
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