Feathers of Doom Littering the Ground


The leaves of the birch tree

where crows build their nests

were electrified and magnetized.—

I saw a surge of ghostly bodies.

I saw fireflies glimpse like

small eyes of rats.

I saw feathers dropping like bombs,

littering the ground.

I saw wings surge and flutter,

ashen and apocalyptical.

I saw cremated images, portraits, indeed.

I saw a mirage glittering from

underneath their wings.—

Elliptical references to matters related to doom

best not discussed in the presence

of the full-moon.

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