ode: rockling

[from :    the Loss Lieder]

time is trone to tantamount as then there
the world’s gone fishing, a leap in the candle eye century
log out is the speed rap handle flattening
time’s a drone meter read in a squint snow-light flow a-cling patch
time is wick as in      wax a lit flick needing
against all bouncing a planet aches into happen settle hounding
time is whip to manage psycho colors in sodium
arc light fling a grudge:   to match then whack that emptiness
time’s logging on as chromium unoxidizing    a wake in which
a stream slipped and fed into your river
.. ...time           ignores a slab to poise at the over-covered door sequence
moving rack simmer look over where
time is mammoth to profit:
that sea flows into the woods ape & staggering lugs:
home-territory march over down-facing in rip
time squashes each loss, or boss

{not yet flying by the hung neck

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