a battle took place.
where i don’t know.
the moon rose the length of the sun’s nose.

a battle commenced.
the habit of dawn
was all we had left.
how many died i don’t know.
the moon rose the length of the sun’s nose.

yet between the nonsense and the fury,
joy drew straws.
the soles of april dreams
make big green pace
to begin the travail of everything

 

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