how many are indecipherable
supernatural products
for enigmatic childhoods
in every daydream the doorbell is about to ring when
the town turned about on its nostalgia
never existing is the essence of sending a postcard to the
doorbell
kicking a football under a silvery sun
they go in and out of the building
somewhere in grief
backs of the houses the railway
then small streets bread and milk
heavy old overcoat deep pockets
kicking a silvery sun
is literally a giant shadowed moth
is there a name for anonymity
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