Who Coos to a Public Pestilence by E. Collins


the wind sifts specks of sand; the Trojan engine veils the benign auburn hue

A grain of sand swept from a sinking bedding, joins the violent charge

Challenged by the composite wind

thrown into a force at large

the speck of sand must now take responsibility too

the rapturous roar of the phonographic cyclone

voices a note- novel and untuned-

the brass noise is refined

instantly

by the unsound wind

who coos to a public pestilence

a melody so mellow

rescind! turn back

fall into your sinking bedding

where the wind blows, that is where you will be, in the ruins of brokered collectivity.

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