NEAR AWAY

Stars are indelible spores, afloat in Forever’s canvas called The Night-
And they nod in the posh Void; glowin’ like madmen; thinking for themselves.
The turbulent peninsula is just a pinch of migration.
As Our minuets hang halos from Sovereign Nails
In Napalm Springs.

Meanwhile. a Blue Jay is a bruised chicken
Behind a mirror-
Down at the
Station…

Pecking at a perp with a beak-

[ made of mirrors ]