7.17.11

Their spirit shimmers
like eucalyptus skin at
the sun’s red descent.

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7.16.11

An empty white chair
fronts a spray-stenciled shipping
crate: “Uniglory”

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7.15.11

The cement sleepers
of Angola’s rail make me
wonder what you’d say.

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7.14.11

He prefers film that
makes the clay more red, though it’s
not reality.

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7.13.11

She: as meaningful
as the mango tree–buoyant
green in a field brown.

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7.12.11

Before the cement
wall is painted yellow, it
must be washed in white.

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7.11.11

The machete cuts
the cogs in two…as the star
looks on, unconcerned.

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