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← Back toThe Dust Bin

Nuestra Señora de Atocha 


The unknown 
translocates 

wandering asunder
blunders 

as lowering rope 
in fits of defiance

fly and die 
the sky and spy

blood and water 
a nail to mix 

green and hopeless 
for a fix --

Ready ready 
are you ready
for this --
 
A mission of fate
beyond

beyond 
the belly of hate  

beyond 
surface of love 

or mystery 
of mercy --

Only to die 
with hope 

strung
around my neck

cherishing 
the crossbones

bread and circus
thickflowing 

taggers 
and daggers
meticulously jacked.

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