The Diachronic Barber Pole Observations of a Recovering Hockey Exile

Mining Seven

April 28, 2010, by Homme De Sept-Iles


they say

say we’re desperate
like wayward giants
copper fire geysers 

we’re seven and spartacus
weave won’t collide

thunder drummers
soiled parchment telecast
hockey mom bombast
forgets timbre tinkle fember member numbers

napoleon purple
vestiture 

tom’ bomb cam’ber
the sevens are six
are five are twelve

the lava dots make inveterate
musket chop
gravitar medal gleams
oil cloth silver s’peen

the crack and oy
the silver bearings
the blast point strike
corundum




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