it then sails over that hill like hot oil
down your leg but you need to get dressed for
the evening execution though since our
cat food is gone perhaps first a stroll
to the river past the perimeter
guards and through the rubble passage in the
southwest corner where hopefully
our stash of obscene poetry journals
is still intact in rooms so completely
similar to this dusty light we may
have been poor and by god we will be so
again but where was I going
with this nearly full skin the sky
is getting dark the bushes full of feet
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