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Apr 2020
Spare a thought for the drowned world
axis spinning raucous, thrashing for air
in garbage water, in bad dreams
a plague of visions. no oracle sleeps.
Where do you sleep, brother of my sin,
arm of the father that beats this mother
earth and can't remember her name? My name
is as dead as the earth, stuck somewhere
in the impenetrable afterlife of the Atlantic-
wet stomach groaning shale,
rotten bicycles coughed onto the shore
of this new world of fog & lightning.
We will not be greeted as gods again
ours is the weight of dead bees,
a waste of April.
Sleep
Written by
Sleep  33/M
(33/M)   
93
 
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