• Vol. 08
  • Chapter 03

Listening Post

ancient spectrum
mother of birdsong
infest her voice again
with sharp cacti, flowering tumuli
drape your living
disguise
of astonished flesh
with eyes slow gaping
at your tired
invention
fold lost frequencies
of sickly sprung
dissension
listening post
what does it cost
to hear
all the colours of the sun?

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