ant5

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the hen driven

from her dust bath

by the rain

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the supermarket

at night

a new kind of human

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even if

you do it backwards

it comes to an end

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in the margins

of our silence

a few flies

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tomato seeds

blown by the fan

slide along the counter

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another monkey

metaphor makes

you squirm

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lamps

in the dark heat

sputter on

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the bronze

mantle clock

has no knobs

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the stars

were there

waiting

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