Dried Up Plasticine

smell flint’s first kiss
with gasoline,

two drops of strychnine
in the anthropocene,

man made the masks and time’s
dried up whatever’s not

swarm o’ kids left out last night
on gloomy dining table
in spinnin’ room’s
green gables

like dried rapeseed ground
into veins on gloomy

but there’s a room here and
it’s callin’ if you’re able
to reach me through
mind’s ocean.

image: https://saumaydublish.wordpress.com/2012/08/10/dinner-table/

image: https://fineartamerica.com/featured/play-doh-work-doh-ellis-rosen.html

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