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Wall St. MDs
Broken stanzas pitted off in remorseful tones where bleach saturated grates down missals like shinning grievances dancing on the army – stray possibilities on loan from doctors on Wall St.
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Donations to the stolen market: the starving artist assured
where patterns contour in abrupt explanation like a doctored letter to a friend in passing we hail no coordinates or break even from here we gamble to market strategies for...
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Remembering the consequence of fishing nets
God told me to stop and tend to my mind like environmental damage, Jonah was a virus if only it took three days for pool parties and raffled off evening...
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like dawn tenured time, you yearn
circulatory bowing in our hearts and minds to table tablature sightings in betrayal the song of the horses, trail minded from the scent this ring of adultery that she presented...
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Misdiagnosed Comfort in Our Movements
Saluting sailsmith laundry horses like caretakers on a farm Mistrust leads to envy and desire to ral substitutes Distracted by an army of fools the heat of desire and prey...
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Entangled by Gratitude (and to one day standing beside breath’s barrow)
frolicsome masses mailing goodwill to resistant external fabrications of agency apologies given to advocates traveling at two different speeds, sleeping allegories marked on trenchant forestry hall-parks like leavened demarcated heavens...
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callent scribe scaling speaking turns colliding agency of mercy and the freedom of peace
old enough to be a watcher of populations, crews, or individuals come into their own or aimlessly gather on ailing neoliberal glass few grow from where they were stationed to...
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Where God was not consulted. (now you brought me. now you showed me. now is the time for trees. vision now un-marked.)
soil and smoke froze to a house like April grenades milking catharsis where an adroit blacksmith cart a semi wheel draping the furniture with ghastly deliverance omnipotent Graceland daddies never...
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denying the desert
These are desert tracks they do not matter to whispering facts where tulips dance under the soil and cashmere elephants prance the lofty reprise has closed the tracker sleep is...
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These are the alibis of tailored painters and Naima Bock
the books on the counter were all too damaged to plead to self-protection like a winter dressed high in the suits and dresses of calamity measured drones these are towns...