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Plastic plague

I bow to you
tomorrow
swallowing up the sorrowed coffee grounds
impeding the hounds nipping at heels
wheels turned square and useless
another night spinning into that dark corner
last light out in the early mourners morning
sea is storming at all solid things
waiting on what low tide brings
driftwood and nylon strings
plastic, man's own plague
the limelight shifts
species exit stage

◄ 3:25

Mule deer lights ►

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