1878
6.51
20.ii.25
screen time
my series
of catastrophes
on the ceiling where
old light bulbs
all the signs erased
a dirty page torn again
the day worn out with wishing
expecting the world to clean up after
and think
between me and starvation
there was always
all my flora blooming
crop of who we are
and again
average velocity of our system
200 km/second through the spiral arm
no wonder attention is a problem
from the corner of the eye
it’s strange
how something fast as a bird
infallibly slows me down
a star shines through us all
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