and high from such
insidious and
cabalistic stacks—
there at the
back—of this or that
formidably-
cold planetary outpost;
the orbs!—
mute with dark odd
perfume,
faint
with pale spiderflesh,
and very very
strangely
heavy for their sizes—
dive
and aggressively
crashland!—into all the unsuspecting
grocery baskets—
as they pass.
