"blue eyes"

April 1st, 2014, 1pm

It was 8.9°C with broken clouds. The wind was light.

shadows of words

half smiles, doubled teeth

blue eyes mailed first class

pretty sentences

half a whatever, forever

tight belt, loose shoes

palaces of hay

cloudy voyage upon

the irregular medium

spun patter— gold

it’s down like dominoes

and next— a trick

the withdrawn sunbeam, winched

back up the molten sphere of the

goddamn sun

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Jeremiah Knudson

The future definitely exists. It’s the past that’s getting iffy.

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