the jam

almost an ocean,
horns,
motors, and feet
tired, despite fury
or,
hiding so:
outside

but!
in
a box, small
belts he,
thousands tall!
my friends:
inside

pass
(from me)
into autumnal woes
orange and amber-
these blues, I know
pass,
ye, beast of fancy
ye, summer
and take with
all that cannot,
will not
salvage:
beyond
(of course)
the hope
it goes
towards,
or either,
away

alas!
whatever shades
brave narrator
escapes-
another day
deciduous,
she come
and then,
decay

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