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Realism November 29, 2006

Posted by Tim in Poetry.

The heat twists the light
here inside the canvas sphere
that is not a sphere
The fire laps at nothing
Until the wicker wisps away until
The law of down and up is

And now the whim of the tide of the air
is heir to anchors
And the texture trembles as the new skin tears away
where it was patched in
where is was

Ignoring the flame-muffled toll
We take in the view of the sun we cannot touch
Illuminating the lawed land
we despised until detached
seeing it now its scenic

Now losing momentum
we loose our matter

To me its evident
crash is imminent



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