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Painted Birds

we were so underground we mistaken ourselves
as seeds but the mechanism of roots never came

no tree pierced soil we were so underground
below undergrowth becoming coffins

we were at the bars one beer after another as night
blurred into many mornings a lyric lashed onto our

pumping machines pumping poems directly into
the waste of sky but no divination arrived head-

aches & mistaken adorations left us left out slinking
into shadows shirking common sense & amnesia

settling in to erase Miami pastel sunsets streets
flooding during high tide we believed in the good

-ness of others & the will of ourselves our friends
vanished while others we refused to let go we worshipped

love but were forced to make a go of it in a world dominated
by hate we went through fields of lavender fields

of sunflowers through the corn maze through the expanse
of the prairie parsed a pulse as we moved through redwoods

old stream still running despite reduced rainfall we measured
the fog & then there was hardly any fog to record we got old

we got lonely we got found & found again by each other