Wednesday, August 17, 2016

HOMESICK ALIEN IN CONSTRUCTION SEASON

The lifeforms
down here must be obstinate

parasites,
and this harsh

frontier land, a
cancerous wheezing accordion,

each distinctly upended
precinct of skin

wounded,
collapsing, and

shiftlessly
regenerating—

the aggregate 
cacophony, so booming

and tuneless,
I'm afraid

there is little
use—and no

space—for a
sermon like this.

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