A museum to suspend belief for, snow on the ground, the call
of a bird behind the gift shop. Location is everything this
close to the abyss. Achronological dread. The apparent
not holding up to the steam and hiss of anxiety's feet to
the fire, flickered in the onto lots, leaving many uncertain
where they'd parked. Mourning in advance of the breaking. A buck fifty.
I heart tourist dollars in a fallen country. Crossed countries in
a fox color, a hat not to wear again, postcards selling a
shallow hope, home made root beer, smokes. Fake ruins and the western sun and
the worst rocks. The balance bar started to go and I knew I'd
meet the gorge. Always again this loss rediscovered. To hurl from
a cliff over perfect aqua so thousands of oneself below
even here, where laughing among goats should have been otherwise.
Be the destruction behind the smile. Enjoy the many scenic
overlooks available for watching the accident, forget.
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