POET

and didn't even know et

5am haikus

What do bombs sound like?

Like my neighbors' closet door

--or the planes above?

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The geese are awake

Golden like the sleeping sun

--the memory stays

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I love mass produced hotel art.

There's something poetic about that.

The Plot of Every Spaghetti Western, to be Read in Any Order

unripe crab apples

hidden from the pale blue sky

--sweat down Gunslinger's nose

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Coyote drinks the mud, dirt, and marsh

--disinterest in mountains and men

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pale pink dress and birds

chirping, trapped, and terrified

--mouth full of bile, blood

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metal on metal, molten cores, earth turned into sin

--Death in an inch

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lazy Wind comes carrying no rain

--no clock tower, but noon still strikes