Untitled (from "after Vasko Popka")
  Amanda Earl

the line is infinite is
covered in footprints
tiremarks birdshit w/
the occasional dried up
lump of vomit this line
is a slow rotation that
spins around your
inattention a piston
a hard
           drive the spin cycle of
your washing machine
bacteria a molecule  the
line is endless unbroken
thick as blood slipping down
a wall after a shot has
been fired a thud as a
body falls some stranger
everyone’s a stranger
following the line

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