Drainpipe Sessions

The morning opens with clouds
soaked in bleach
                              the silk of apprehension
              slippery breath
                                                & the exploding beer can

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the flowers like god on fire
              the fingers of palm trees
                              stained by the sun
                                                drowning in a spoonful of
                                                                                                wet sand
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in the hollow
greenblue tapestry
held together by threads of rust