once they fell
like tenements of blind cards
writhing hands high
spouting alms offering praise
from their asphalt altars

perched above to reign
from a martyrs chair cross
an ampere cell camps

coaxial veins
dry with static sand
siphon empty runs

this trackswitch is quiet with child
a pregnant pause
delivers a wordless mute

prayers for power fall deaf
they wait for meager signs
a glowing face of twelve_twelve_twelve

shallow winds carry hints
of tumbling thuds
generational generators generating

with no lamps to dot or blink
the evening encroaches boldly
aware and unafraid


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