clearcut

kim goldberg

 

 

spew of powdered stars,

mouthful of locks with no

keys, boundless

 

herds of rocks – hobbled, slurping

dustbowls, grazing hardened

thought, wasted

as three-legged atoms, as frozen oceans, crashed

 

as wave, vacant

with stampede, with gone, with

done for

 

 

* * *

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