Random # 284 = 546 in base-7; 5 + 4 + 6 = 15 lines
in-the-same-footsteps fetters
not even the void deters
yawning beneath like a dream
remaining in the day's bloodstream
ice canyons & nitrogen
slush to the dim horizon
so cold & we're not used to it
except for new moon's visit
vast fields of smoking rubble
here & there part of a skull
bright lies-woven tapestry
shades each shattered leaf-reft tree
at the underpass idling
adorned with the late dawn's bling
& bleeding ev'ry ingot
"(Experimental Modernism is by now, after all, a genre of its own. It’s as old and over-developed as sci-fi, divided into easily-recognisable subgenres. There are rules to follow, tropes to be reproduced, textual markers to be laid down, easter eggs to be hidden for the knowing reader.)" --@mjohnharrison via
Panorama at Chimney Rock. (via @jorie_graham)
