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Here is a recent and rough (still) poem that coincides, possibly without coincidence, with dark rumblings of strange wars and apocalyptic polarizations. In any event, I thought I’d share… please note that accurate line breaks for poetry don’t show on phones but only on laptops. I am not sure about tablets, but I can only hope!
The Unimagined the unimagined are restless because they are mute their faces are not marked and are not recognized because they are sold the discrete linger at the edges of the night winds they are moving parts in a dream world alive as artificial voices the windows open and close no one is inside yet someone is looking the silk purses are tucked inside the robotic flowers waiting for a culmination torn alphabets are pulled together in a string of syllables searching for mandates from heaven in an empty room total hunger is poised to enter war alone skeletons and ice keys manipulate trigger cells to lengthen telomere instructions a symphonic radius expands mannequins rendezvous with electrical outlets millions of cash cows align with Jupiter and Mars narcotic windmills siphon gasoline passions hundreds of silent ones, sexy ones, hungry stars aching for light dispersal disposal desperation, sing song voices collaborate and eat paper together under rabid conditions photobooth gigolos romance matronly lesbian gap-hounds waiting for an angry fix -- rebirth of and reduction of -- in star-sight milky way heaven a commode of choices in a towering glass throat wing ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Max Wolf Valerio, May 28, 2024 Thanks again to all who read!