Saturday, April 11, 2015

Non-fiction Nome

Truth holograph erupting
spring as a mysterious noise.

Terrible grinding nobody bothering
to explain it as happiness.

What matters most afterwards
something about surviving another year.

Thought is love flowers
instead of  blame and murder meeting.

Nanook everywhere except the tall tourist buses
darkened windows squishing along muddy roads.

Privacy thawing draining bleak.

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