02 July 2010


Enforcement 7/2

A man in a long coat loads the business end of a yawning musket He points it to the tree-line I am crouching in the tree-line naked He points and the uneven metal drifts through air some sort of breaking of waves The smoke drifts up through his face he is and is not Rough metal at skin breaking limbs of pine there is a falling of cones a needle rain A thousand pricked chest blooming like roses in a pocket A sudden pocking over everything Sap over holes emptying...

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