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from Studies in Fourteen Lines
Recombinant Only On Paper
The merchants were coming and no time to lose. You have traveled their stairways and even your friends seemed ready to sell. This needn't be the blockade feared by historical projectionists. In the land of parallels you broke the wall. It's so dark outside, the fence so far away. A shining dog eats a penny and rain clouds gather on a distant edge. They have lit a fire and the air smells of creosote. This might have been an aquarium once. The vast stretch of blacktop should seem smaller now. Copy only a sound or hope they remember. Imagine how significant a frenzied pack of dogs.
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