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 thread by Rg Gregory 
						the sky is shatteredits debris
 clutters the world's streets
 
 where the light came from
 is a question
 charred beyond recognition
 
 heads hang out of walls
 limbs unattached
 rigid in their will to crawl away
 
 but there's a bird (black
 in the jagged sky)
 with a twig still stuck in its beak
 
 is it falling or flying
 there's no witness
 with the fullness to interpret
 
 the intolerable direction
 it must decide
 is the thread the scene hangs on
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