landscapes leaking through the daylight
what new disaster is this?
tick tick
everything huddled as though uncertain
what is here?
eiderdown is here
wainscot is [not] here
guitars and books is here
like peering old characters from fairy-tales
they look and one looks back
seeing their faces
fearing a little
still rowdy with dreams
unsure what is real
through the gap in the curtains
trees sway
with their old solemnity
but in here, in here
it is all ruffled white like TV
blinking out the national anthems
at the end of the world
hush now, hush
some beginning of the world
is nigh
.
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