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Walking
The roaring alongside he takes for granted
And that every so often the world is bound to shake
branches are contention
not of the birds
wind intends
away from the birds
against
I am threatening
sun on trees
with words
I am a warning
for them not to close
I am a grasping
even when I utterly go
thinking about crises, cities, poetry, agitprop, architecture.
Stuff here is mainly interesting things I've seen and read, interspersed with poems and pictures by me and others.
