"a crow's cry
flies into darkness ...
alone with myself"
--@ericcoliu
📻.
Random # 326 = 644 in base-7; 6 + 4 + 4 = 14 lines
this drab survival batters me
as death in spades collects spiders
what witness asks of idiots
the fraught scurrying bog of thorns
word skunked by angry plummetings
eye-bang & mission hamlet-proof
on Sedna i found rest, curved like
perished colonnades, withering
buckshot in the mile-long yardangs
we were through with by sundown's crisp
puffclap · these dark days that slip off
arresting thought & never pause
consist mainly of riddle-shards
& rotten planks across chasms
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