Poems and stories found in a box
Poems and stories found in a box
COME, THE REVOLUTION
Juan was at
The winter solstice.
But so was everyone.
His last name.
Didn’t catch,
Anonymously equal
Under the setting sun.
Light comes from
Many directions.
Juanita from her skew line.
Pablo across his fault-line
Falling, falling, falling
Towards wide white lines
Covering ice-cream earth.
Fernando Real
Knows nothing is real
If you don’t feel
It blowing through the…
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