Existential baby steps, cross.id
where vocalizations meet the dialect
labeled in the milage book, exit 360.
“This article may be expanded with text translated from the corresponding article.”
A pump, rainbow green, liquidates mauve.
Wooden seat-beads filter
a breeze in aspirations. Poetry by the
routes, fragments of seagreen glass swept to the side—a
windshield framing color hex/es on the quotidian?
“This article may be expanded with text translated from the corresponding article.”
Is the sun tucked beneath
blades of verdigris grass (exit 776)?
Motormen are encapsulated
in glaucous shirts. Comfy, generally
“This article may be expanded with text translated from the corresponding article.”
made of cotton—fitting the dangle of belly,
the tire, formed by convenience, layovers:
fried potatoes—the shape, gömböc—
hands ready at the shiny black wheel,
the iodized salt melts, exit 888.
And the bones rumple sideways
repeating old jokes to make the lumbar
feel-displaced in time;
there aren't any more revolutions of the wheel.
“This article may be expanded with text translated from the corresponding article.”
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