by McKenzie Langford
God’s children cannot feed on aphorisms only / trade you a fiver USD for some of that Beulahland currency / -- it is a poison moon that scopes these things / won’t you snap a Polaroid & thereby trap the ghosts? -- / time is a lizard the color of whiskey plague fear or electric forest sweat / lizard the time / the way is bricked in century junk & tender data / sure to freak eyeballs & eardrums awonder / don’t think asunder / there breathes an open window in my dream.
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