gone forth




–
—
–



cratered hopes flourish
in a temple of vipers
en masse for last time


“ergot’s plume” does not
mean anything, at least,
i don’t think it does



a crack in the glass
this small splintered refrain:
"where are the singers?"

“would you like to go
on a train someday,” she said
—read the subtitles



homing missile flares
centered on shrinking target
argues same lesson
