Wild form, deep form, form out of the
Arabic night
God your conspicuous discrete
desert stars are trucks of light
on very distant highway 101's
over which
I am hitchhiking tonight
The waves feathering out in ink
beyond Obispo, toward Conception
toward Surf, a black like blue
jello out of Jules Verne's star-bowls
the world a crushed grape to
someone on Betelgeuse
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