Books
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Driving
Like a steel whip
on the soft hillside's back
we snake a chain of barbs
towards a dark sky.
Blinks of yellow
salute our path as we curl
in a restful, sleep-wise hush
towards the sun, nature's fist,
waiting to heave its radioactive breath
towards our shivering planet,
this seed-pearl cloaked
with an azure butterfly's wing.
Our iron drags between cells,
machines carving canals
around the islands of living things
as a red dawn sings.
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