Incense smoke supersedes stone stokes
Of sashed ashes falling in cascades

Can’t contain creeping vapors
Various scent-killing vectors

Ashes clashing with basket dashings
With lashings
And scent-killing gashes

Slashings of brashness, smoke and its flashes
Cover corruption with splashes
Between synapse dischargings
In the salt that catches
Vented ashes with passings
Into its next landings

No vapor left now
No voltage left
An air clear of charge
And crumbled spark crashings

Varied victims of the blasting
Nothing else left standing
But the ashes, those ashes
Who passed into the salt

Suvivors of the strife
Each one willing to die
But only the next conflict
Can release them from this flak pit

Published by Jake Thomas Shaw

Concerned with memory, currency, and destiny, I strive to capture each one as they happen. Join me and consume reality! Radio Reality. City!

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