The grounds, the preparation,
the grind, the extraction,
the stretch, the pitch,
the breath and the touch,
the syncopating rhythm,
cones of pigment spilling
from the settlements
of mesolithic tribes
squatting in the belly
and rising up the sides
of skyscrapers into
the night, seeing neon,
seeing signs in light
pricking darkest obsidian.



Tim Cumming
Illustration: Atlanta Wiggs



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