the destroyer > text > Matthew Klane
FRACTIONS
W/ every ounce
of your outfit.
Thirty years ago,
the careering
sidecar
split, second.
Like a letterform
semaphore.
A line
that separates
material abstraction.
The hour
indistinct, he thinks
to bid on these bargains!
Crème brûlée.
Out of the ordinary
thinning sprouts
a boatload.
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