Lies

traverse thunder stepped water clean
off slingshot-galactic the thing
we’re all on
earth

bone thrown across gazers at flag’s flap distance
wind of the scene I can’t imagine, only
something of worth because the world has proclaimed
such machinery as such house-hold appliance as
much as something else which could equal replacement-
surgery if

twisted enough to dig through trenches of fine print enough
to get down to the fine-tooth combed-hair ancestor of this
land which no one knows how to read

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