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Thomas David Lisk
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White Fixtures
 
Impulse hammer virtue into being.
All along the husk is cracking and a yellow tendril poking toward the sun.

Keen! Alert!
The sound of toothed hammers everywhere.
Knives for handles.
Firm grip. Definite division.
Nubs and lumps.
No, and more no.

March, snake.
No pilfering granddam here.

Another night has passed.
We have white fixtures.

Oh, great, more talkers!




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