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November 22, 2021 / barton smock

older cities, from ‘untouched in the capital of soon’

city 121

My memory isn't what it will be.

Povertavoid, avidsad, handbefore. 

She wants a flowermysonisdead.


city 122

We get our thunder from snow's dream.

A baby

with a fork and an outlet.

The wind is slowly eaten
by what


city 123

There's not much to know, really.

The puppeteer sleeps all day
and the fisherman
all night.

Hide your hair in your mouth.


city 124

Pop-up books about sleep.
The rabbitwater ocean.

No one is the one keeping god alive.

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