Symbiosis

I tilt away from hearing her as she explains her nature as though it were a theatrical arrangement to a

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Of Raw Quality

I am an onion beneath the surfacea bulb petrified by the flashI think myself into faceinto attentioninto mass reflectioninto oblivious

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Wound to the Clock

Blinded by the clockcounting dollarsindexing worth to secondschained to interestworth in existenceI am an hour Everything I say or doleaves

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Folk Song

Some justice is whore justicebecause more justice is wrongI am the neophyte plebeianposing as exemplar, dredging syllables into songI take

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