42: To Be Continued, As Seen From The Sky

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The city’s buildings packed and pulsating like the krill we used to be: To be eaten by Job’s leviathan.

The countryside sliced with a pizza cutter: To be divvied up among the gods.

The full moon a communion wafer: To be dissolved on the pockmarked tongue of a forgiven sky.

The subdivisions: To be a pot of boiling water choking full of frogs.

The farms: To be discussed of which came first, the chicken or the shame?

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