1.
The pilot flies low
over the field, flies
low and the burnt and bloody
elephant grass bends beneath him.
He sees, briefly, bodies,
sees death in each tree
and bit of bush, but he does his job, he rises
and moves on. Each afternoon he del [...]
According to Popular Mechanics, April, 1951,
all of this should have been taken care of by now:
so many roads leading nowhere. In those glossy pages
rocket packs soar over domed cities and all of us
take in delicious food through translucent tubes
an [...]
A couple of months before the weekend in question, I met the man who lived downstairs. As I helped him move his refrigerator he told me he was a fiber-artist, which meant he made complex maps of his soul from weeds and paper, rope a [...]
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