MISMANAGING THE
ALARM TRAIN
Pearl eyes, the dogged kind.
Meanings that disappear.
In my hand, this pen now
feels like a magic wand.
-
I sit in a noise car : Jagged
tracks, the rumble of things
going by. Attempting to write
while riding a train is a distended
mess of messy jiggles and smudge.
-
If I was traveling in Wales, by
contrast, I'd consider that a
food to be ordered.
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