deepundergroundpoetry.com
3 AM
Each note inculcates
in type writer keys
As my fingers
feel
like conduits of midnight pianos
having the statures
of oceanic monoliths
jutting out of surfaces
Shedding
the appearance of pieces
In questions
interconnected with answers
Like a holistic apparatus
that
always
was
always
is
always
And I wonder…
When angels fall
do they understand it all
at all?
Do you?
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