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New poem: Hollow Hymns

This is our final destination:

No Man's Land terminal,

terminating at the end of the lane Cain paved.

This is place is an airport slowly murdering us with boredom

with nothing but dim, echoed muzak

and our haggard,

baggy-eyed reflection in shop windows for company.

 

This is where we roam:

for anything to hunt and gather

on these barren litter-beaten st...

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