The content whispers to you
from out of a dream.
Onward, brave pigeon-holer,
to the gleaming expanse
of some distant nether.

Something about the weather today…
It makes the body want to collapse,
all wet and degraded.

We’ll dirge about it later.
For now, the temporary lift of green
is less sufficient, but
it loosens up the language — somewhat.

-r. miller

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