This park closed hours ago. And everyone has since
Disappeared behind the curtaining ripples of voting booths.
Even now, aimless and undecided, I imagine the tepid poetry
Of reason. The sensations flee.
An evening purse of birds and blackened greenery slouches--
There!
It is yawning, as it prepares to sleep.
The Monkey
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There’s an area in our home referred to as “The Black Hole” as things tend
to disappear there never to be seen again. The notion that something
uncanny e...
5 weeks ago
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