“Poem Ending in a Line by Ludlum”
An acrid edge to that far-fabled smell
I bring to mind, a knell from far away.
C'est Bruges-la-Morte: city i never saw
I sing today.
Dowson & Lojban emerge then turn as one
Upon a purple plain, strange heptagon
Remembered in all the ways it brings to pass
Poems beyond my ken at the time i made them.
The indigo star is a stone i carried back,
An acrid edge to that far-fabled smell
A knell from years before. “The smoothly tarred
Surface of the road abruptly stopped.”
(via)
"Some poets need to get into architecture cause US cities are all starting to look like the headquarters of a failed tech company" --@Harmony_Holiday
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