Dilating the Find in Your Fist

Grab crackling objects, some say,/they found in their gravy/at the summer solstice./they’ve polluted the land./Their tongues slide and trickle in bowls/they gamble all their currency on jackpots/aware of their severance/as they possess a mother’s trickle/taste in the mouth but seeing with their eyes/ at gunpoint/desire spelled it’s own letters/as they seize an easy victim./If I could feed them poison/I’d tell them gainsaid: you are the first fruit stretching across the rails.

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