36 0 0
|
a blunt trowel skipping stiff mud
|
129185
|
And if the dead can't wait, they crouch
|
14361816
|
captured by his lens and plates/
before humidity and hydrocarbons/
smudge the crisp clean lines
|
38532
|
Twice a day, at high tide, the ocean goes down on the cliffside.
|
8781612
|
Don't mistake my eyes for supplication.
My invisibility is your nightmare.
|
64233
|
I feel like I should tell you
things about strength.
|
754168
|
Rain and wind and the pecking of birds
|
183127
|
Despite our stern and stone appearance,
we have not existed forever
|
