ForkWordPoems by Inchiki |
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watt things goldinitials silencia by worms a painted argument– time is a gun gone off now in variable directions the exciting age approaches down the road old bones clunk like the gearbox of my first car madly careering the ploughshare into an ant's mound the steering wheel spins out of my hands a body like a door hanging loose on its hinge blowing open with a cold breeze - a fever of ghasts ![]() Mind Spool 2015 |
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