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Apr 2018
with a dual-handed slap of thighs,
a man conveyed his leave of
The Table's perimeter.
one set as never before, divine as:
that's all folks.
at that moment birds bit branches in half,
to crown the achievement of the sky.
with a music that overran the program sheets.
busied with primacy,
land rose to smell the curious buds of clouds.
regaled the fragrance to allow
their free-associating blooms.
the stereoscopic vision of flies caught
the trailer of a messianic figure.
who was a sparkling sheen in lolls
of child-like sleep.
a slinky winding up a
white marble staircase.
whose sermon was mouthwash
to the yawning grave.
Onoma
Written by
Onoma  NYC
(NYC)   
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