Forty Two

The shattered making of lists

truth inbetween them

“Try the lake, it simply

screams complacency”


Bread is broken

time speaks slowly

from the mouth/south/”how'th-

oughtless how criminals fight

to delay the deluge”


Instruments tap the rain of autumn in lines along the side of the well

“stop, master! Repent!”


Litanies of woe

Wanting to stay strong

“Longing for the crew's most common tropes, she smiled”


Paper forms a trite crux for a lighter likely not enough to wonder

“know the formula?”

The End

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