47
There was a wet log on the fire
when he fell plumb. Then somehow
he rebounded as if leavening his own
transubstantiation by denying nonexistence.
“Well, this is precarious.” she said.
Also: “How can a being negated
ponder what one aches for?”
He was estranged so
he became an apartment.
“That, was a beautiful sunset!
Now write a poem in one word
about a brick head exploding.”
he commanded:
*pop*
04February2021
Markle~
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