I am shipwrecked next to the shell boy next to the war patient brandishing the war patent for george malady I am karma's apprentice changing bodhisattvas skins in the brooklyn labyrinth I stretch this poem over the void to plug the soul leak in the bleeding fountain I paint hours with art stains when grenades slip in between the hands of time I store my indigo bits in the nibiru database I am the watcher I am the minefield.
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