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Every Building a Saurian, Stunned

Thanks to Shay for the suggested wordlist prompts (visit her page is here). 



There is no cleaning out.
Weariness in change is the gear
At the factory's heart; it's
oil and dust turned attar of clocks.
The landlord leaves it unlocked
in case of fate needing space
to continue weaving.

-- Chrissa

Comments

  1. Very cool, Chrissa. Succinct and satisfying.

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  2. The landlord leaves it unlocked!! I absolutely love this poem Chrissa! Deep and lovely!!

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  3. Strong opening, and that second line is just amazing--it brings the reality of coping with change into clean perspective, and gets to the heart of a different kind of work we all must do to survive--yet how tired we get of it, and of that space it continually strives to fill. Or so I read.

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  4. this poem has a perpetual motion to in... the clock must always turn, i like your image of spider webs reinforces the voice of the poem, your little is perplexing, a mystery, but i like that, adds another element to the poem. enjoyed reading this

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  5. Sigh, gorgeous writing. You always provide wonderful poetry.

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  6. The factory exists and the door is unlocked. So much potential in those concepts.

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