danger

I drink
to keep my steam
I blow a trick
watch me light
like a dynamite stick

along the borders
of our confined
and faded memories
I sit on the shoulder
of an endless highway

but there are no free
ways

O sublime and calcitrant death!
I am lost in a thousand sequined,
drains. Swallowing the milky water
of freedom

Though I miss the short,
flailing tongues
of a minister's dragon
at the pulpit of Cimarron

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