extensive poetic juxtapositions
by and about del ray cross
(delraycross at gmail)
Saturday, December 25, 2021
mmmcdlxiiib
combustible
More X’s than O’s Are we, the two of us here, having finally found an un locked door to coll apse in this pitch dark vestibule. Once inside, one of us says “Reach out and touch me.” Once inside, everything smells of gasoline.