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February 20, 2017 / barton smock

ark and herd

dreams my dialect coach never had. birth and the boring outcomes of immediacy. oh grief, the first to mourn the fast learner. it’s your story, but you can’t name it resurrection, your spacecraft, without considering the mortality of your audience. I sleep crooked while watching ugliness. I love my brother like a leg but he brings to choir exit music for nomads. what does god think of the future? we carry the virus that killed our ghost.

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2 Comments

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  1. namelessneed / Feb 20 2017 11:24 pm

    fine job

    • barton smock / Feb 22 2017 1:13 pm

      thanks for taking the time.

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