we are this far, here at the fold our map estimates the scale torn away, (cell #4) a friend
Category Archives: Poetry
the other wish the wind knows
she’s staid so long aye name the place Sue Hills
places have their place, you know, unless you put ‘m back you only leave dust rings, & some times bowls, rolling planet – wise
and > twisted worms — let’s not change the names we know — curried virii sounds too nice