Sunday, July 20, 2014

5599. LOST NAMES

LOST NAMES
Here is the end of the tribe : a floating piece
of wood stock is running down the current.
The ribble and the dodge, the water has a
flowing throb. Mine eyes have seen the glory.
-
The first five minutes of anything new are
always the worst. I can abide nothing 
more than broken houses, afire. 

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