MATURATION PERIOD,
SEASONED WINE
They are slogging through the mash like pigs
through offal - like lunatics without their
moonlight, old sailors, broken down and
maimed, dreaming of their maiden voyages.
It should (then) come as no surprise, these
things : the cyclotron draws power from
its own heat, the shooter's forehead is
red from the recoil of the rifle gone
out of control. I am but a bystander
now - all I can do is wince.
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