a project of skill-less and dead-author labor turned dead-text turned dead-reader, love
affair with space, some cloud to influx information without regard for human eyes. &poetry
Wednesday, November 8, 2017
can you imagine all the beeps in the new york streets
whisper down on me
having the story unfold
more than human in
far too long language
waiting far in so long
when you finally taste
in me. understand game with us
imagine you possibly see me-thing
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