Seventeen Cs

cracked clay sings cautiously
as calamine calls the crybaby
to clamber: using hands, feet
colliding with homegrown hangovers
and throbbing cuts ‘cross the ground
for collecting pills
does correlate with unforgiving gradients,
constellations dashing away
to conspire against invented laughter
and the clamor heard in kitchens
fraught with the craziness of
provincial, coincidental gossip.

Cat No. 70 of the 500 Cats Project

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