Drew Gardner




I Opened a Fall



I opened a fall in dimmed haywire

a blizzard pit in flute plume


store shifting in the ground’s other garment

just lash the humming bird’s


thirsty sky, enjammed blue

on the outskirts of mortification


a thumb slowly, outright

a careful chart in fruitful trouble

of things sorting wheat from payfire stumble


erased institution,

the economy of the given



mother earth is pregnant for the third time




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