It's
more important they lay open in the ocean
And
whether or not we mount the red birds
Like
beveled ornaments
Less
sophisticate
The
shifting tents are mutinous
New
movement
Eats
the grain each day, little by little
Even
the noun eats acid
You
are in a Roman place
But
the year is out of order
Only
the tent city stirs in the morning
Nothing more
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