11 czerwca 2012
Excerpts from Antediluvian Birdsong, After The Stormy Dark
They doused the salted field with iodine and dreams.
“Except for the barley, let those keep their gold and morning.”
Logos, but for letters.
~
There will be snow and rain, same day of fine things.
Mixed up. Mixed, enamel in champlevé
damascening like a dance, the curling, whey hope.
~
Not theory today, please.
Maybe that movie about Merritt typewriters feeling obsolete.
I’ll walk myself out, batch of bread and milk bagged.
~
“This is piction is eo ipso is an illustrated text.”
Why not more bay stories or rare ones at the lounge?
Because this is foreign, dialogue.
* This tweetfic sequence first appeared in the literary journal "Cricket Online Review".
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