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Nov 2019
swimming pools filled by trunkless elephants
plastic plates cleared of crumbs of witches
dead eyes soldered to stapled bellies

following a memorized sun
in plush toy boats
shaded with logos veneers as anchors

every smile is the smear of a dead wingspan
every petal now smelt on the emperor's robe
where is the kind and how is the encore?
Written by
CM Burgess
103
 
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