1672
5.240
28.viii.24
date line
drawn like iron dust to the empire, to the empire’s
heart
now it is yesterday
finally up
the fast night east
the day come on
this same ghost in
all the moment
frail tin as in retreat
the mind, a city you
won’t remember
and we guess on
kaching
other pages alive
empty night
the blah-mid
neither here nor
there
the naked tracery of
time lived through
it’s as if we had
always been up to nowhere
hours of the queued
dawn
flesh wings far below
the same day gone
where days go
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