Arcadian Tunnel |
by Alan Ram?n Clinton |
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down in Boston all I did was die
Arcadian Tunnel 1. Distant as they are cities will break your heart. They are unable to disappoint. Force of the currents infested with burials that just won’t end. If I were anyone else, transference would have won out. His tricks start to backfire. The bride tossed him a motorway where the spectacle was to take place. Storm head, city of the dead. 2. Black windows are the only beauty spitting out birds blown into hawks sandblasting weddings letters to senators blowdowns to serve as a scream speed black there are no doors. 3. Something of the feel of a crutch. Muted by the same dream. Everyone is better off remaining still. The Lows are the home of the tongue (being an ant, being a lion). Thin air terminal. 4. The rain on Mount Washington falls at 70 miles an hour and it’s warm. It bleeds through lips and erases these words. Please advise someone else. Credit falls from the Buddha’s footsteps. The law will find us at a ferris wheel glazed with raindrops beside the turquoise ocean. The rain has little eyes that see everything each speeding bead sees a different future. Did I mention we were atoms too? Ever since the monks left town. 5. Falling into health down in Boston all I did was die forgiveness for future sins I choose to hang like a bat cryogenic Sudan the hurricane of Mecca I tried to float through photographs taken with my left hand of white stones our faces pressed together to speak of dreadful episodes as the art of love calls them main street (secondary business street) noise street in the near future we’ll take that trip once in a lifetime |
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