Canned food doesn’t fly

That day the rooster misses the sunrise
a strangeness sits on the world
White birds are counting each other’s autographs
because the horizon smells of burnt rubber
A well-kempt general does the narration:
next week they will pull in the moon
I nod sullenly on my perch, his eyes are gray like ash.

Canned food doesn’t fly was originally published on Meandering home

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Published by

Kamiel Choi

Dutch philosopher and poet, sometimes sharing thoughts on the internet.

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