Saturday, October 29, 2016

passage to blackacre 8

Northwest Highway slestered with
the brittle trail linked to me
through fraught years & roster of
eggplant colored battlefields

i run like a bloodstained waif
each breath snatched from nettle sky
& risk carrying onward
more rot than embossed scripture

hail wambly zigzag hail route
among crazed drivers of vans
whose best hope is belly up

Cold Sun, Dark Shadows.

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