"out past pluto st"
western wending · not wide the roads
peeling paint · bones on the porch
our goal so much newer · a cottage he calls it
dusk coming down · i clutch my list of turns
not that far from the river · yet a whole world away
from their theater & art scene · with my secondhand weeds
& inherited food · old clothes, books, words
these winding lines · i am born not to leave
" 'Earth' men call her, · but Æsir 'the Fold',
the Wanes call her 'the Ways';
'Ever-Green' by Ettins, · by Elves 'Growing One',
by the lofty Rulers, 'Loam'."
--Gupta's Alvíssmál
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