A book of poems is but one
however-real-it-seems
beautified distortion of what's happening
and what’s to be.
A pretty face
emerges from the sliver of a moon.
Another rises like a shell from shore.
Election, blastoma, perfection, piranha.
Hypergiants of the Tarantula nebula!
Look around before it surrounds you.
Love before you start to age.
Pray before you cease to be.
Truth will rise/a leaf will fall.
A praying mantis on the edge
of a crisp red book.
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