the cars' eyes in the fog glance swift and bright approaching
we all in these our boxes wandering appear and disappear
we do not know where
some giant has blown smoke into the bowl of the earth
thick, white, creeping up the nostrils into the brain
it summons us visions
every moment we arriving from fog into a new somewhere
are leaving always, we do not know where we may be going
or we may only be dreaming
we wandering see only fog thick as the scent of lilies
black treeshapes pasted onto tissue paper dissolving
we have forgotten where
or we may only be dreaming
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