CONSCIOUSNESS ATILLA JOSZEF STYLE
Armorous abstraction
I felt the cosmic
order gleam-the leaves like
tiny butterflies.
Build a bonfire,
a super-duper one
to warm everyone.
No arrows, stones
or guns just a sigh of beauty-
a train whistle blows.
No arrows, stones
or guns just a sigh of beauty-
a train whistle blows.
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