Photographica

Photographica

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Formaldehyde

all your burdens under lock and key
reach the branch under the branch under me
to catch the catcher in the rye
his glowing eyes swallow butterflies-


    -who flew a shot in the shallow vein
but the bloodstain clotted
a formaldehyde shot in the brain
nothing else gets the fresh-air flooded

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