He is a stone carver and he
sculpted the moon while you
clicked and refreshed down
the internet’s cul-de-sacs
hoping for a Sasquatch to loom before you with claws
hoping to trip and tumble into fields of blue tulips
He sits with a cast iron pot and
distills the tincture of sqwee
in yesterday’s vials but you,
you can’t stop clicking,
waiting to learn the lecture of resplendent bruises
waiting for something, anything, unsignposted
but your afternoon eyes are too
focussed, too ensnared. Your eyes
are soft-throated bunnies
bewitched by the musk of the lure
click.
sculpted the moon while you
clicked and refreshed down
the internet’s cul-de-sacs
hoping for a Sasquatch to loom before you with claws
hoping to trip and tumble into fields of blue tulips
He sits with a cast iron pot and
distills the tincture of sqwee
in yesterday’s vials but you,
you can’t stop clicking,
waiting to learn the lecture of resplendent bruises
waiting for something, anything, unsignposted
but your afternoon eyes are too
focussed, too ensnared. Your eyes
are soft-throated bunnies
bewitched by the musk of the lure
click.
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