The land-once pulled tight across

The Humdrum Epicurean

The land-once pulled tight across

Now tarries on descent

The canyons, craters, the crust is crowned

Magma still pulses the deep


Rapid to myters

stall the keyboard

soaked in tequila and gin.


Dried upon the sides of a foldable chair


The sheets of an army boy’s queen


A world of grief annulled

If Oedipus stopped

To shake hands at the crossroads

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