We share heirlooms, found poem.

we have the same heirlooms

treasures stored

I, you and the monorails.

Mixed and fresh amongst these episodes we chew what is offered

swallowed down a tube

a slide, hollow

futile fiction is functional

the clock is right,
8
its factual.

At this time in a different latitude

he’s knitting sunburn and exhibiting characteristics of a recidivist.

He blames his mother’s strong DNA.

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