having a bottle of merlot in the cafeteria at the hotel invalides before going in to the musée de l’armee

7 to the left
none at the right, writ
electronic in full bloom, blood
of one true omen—
now is a function of the location made
plain—now is the ruminating pace
in mind of; illumine
beheaded & turned, a venue
of miles traversed, waylaid, laid
up, on the table. the table
cracked & salted—the monument never
illumined. when in rome we do
as the aztecs, when in tokyo lets
belie the mongols. forks
of gallance; brummels
of white. in council counsel councils
cancel canceled cancels, who can sell
the minute for the hour, the day
for the bromide, the american the quiche
lorraine—and the bacon—baked in—


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