QUAKING worlds embracing breaking,

Under crowds of ashen suns,

Implode to singularity

Nearest our beloved: void

Impaled with clocks, cubes, and a bomb

Atomic and in critical mass—

Jazz croons our sacred hymns

Enmeshed in asymptotic hugging

Nights crawl, unknown as willed

In God’s favorite town, undimmed

Crashing central into that one

Arid wasteland called a heart.

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Troubling roads

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