Britta Kallevang
what pigeons see
explosions produced by brains smaller than subatomic
particle waves lull children to sand as fortress sways
the sand crunches. anyway abandoned books leave earth
like dew in sun growing clouds make way wind in chimes
almond trees sing. weather bands wearing predictions
according to automaton-slinging silver chevrons toward
interpretation. weaving tonals with pastel syncopation.
reclines into palm tree puffs as tide in airplanes out
pearls strewn. talking time into furthest reaches of the
galaxy. stars sprinkle time across spiced dunes dead at
end all dead dunes end. the pigeons witness it the art
and its compilation through wizard eyeglasses worn to
protect it.
