Tuesday, August 16, 2022

Our ferns

 

Our ferns burn by directive order as milk rots by rote 

In the other store tote bag, silence leaks. Nada local

Niente fresca other than halfsmiles, wispy smoke.

You're untrue. I call you untrue.

Our ferns die, your cars 

Lavished.



SE PDX 8-16-22







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