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you stumble

upon the bardo

of the frogs

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the spirits say

leave three beans

in the can

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the sunflower king

his consorts

heads heavy

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blackberries in jars

their rims orange

with sunlight

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October begins

the grass a brief

spell of green

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fog everywhere

cat bound by

the beetle

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you talk about

the moon like

it was a biscuit

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stone by stone

we look for

a memory’s remains

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where the paint’s

peeled fly damp in

the misty dawn

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