Night approaches. Upright,
uptight, the painting that
divides crepuscular &
corrugation bursts its banks.
Too much to contain, that
the same day has different
times in different places.
Maybe even a different
season as some kind of fruit
is falling. It rolls out of that
picture & into this. Gravity
strikes. Plus globalization.
No sign of source identity.
Confusing. This time of day.
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