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
