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


Published by

Kamiel Choi

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

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