“To be read as concordance, in the year of the reign 20XX
The young woman sat rigid after her beating.
No salve soft enough.
And wore glasses.
Outside, Patrol assembled nightly, and regular.
Our young girls grown up under Rentalsman,
said Mrs. Maria. Said Abigail and Patsy:
O moon, your sad steps
Again, the INVESTIGATOR:
they longed to feed him
larkspur, large-leaved lupine,
wrap him blue weed, viper’s bugloss-
In the lab, thumb edge to screen, began to decipher.
And swipe in, left, and again, swipe.
Rhythm defined an axis.
These pages found:”
Subterranean Blue Poetry