fall along
traintracks
wheels turn
in the grips
of gravity
& motion
& the warm embrace
of friction
over the bridge
as the sun
on my black coat
& brwn hat
& scarf o many colors
made by an old lady
in texas i never met--
each wheel
is heavy & round
& bears us down
the incline
further decline of light
in predictable circles.
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words, noises & images relative to the oilcan press and its productions.
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