#7 – no title

no title.

long is the albatross : the song of men
diminishes : the candlefish burn bright :
the roses hiss and crackle in the night :
a blackbird coughs, splutters, begins again :

the dolls are weeping now : tectonic plates
buckle : harmonic resonances pass
around the surface of a brandy glass :
cocooned, a liquid butterfly mutates :

the trees around Sao Paolo glow with flocks
of angels : Glasgow seethes with feline lust :
the upper atmosphere sparkles with dust :
and everywhere the ticking of the clocks

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