…all corners of the plain
torching your territory
innocent blood of the first
seethes for revenge as
you lie here in the dark
unnamed lane facing
sky from where your first moon
arched over
trash bin in its solitude
shadows your good fortune
with stale piss
and sick fumes
diners laugh at irony on
menu-board bison steak
with wild berry reduction
Arch of canoe
emerges in center of your pupil
while disembodied echo

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