BAP Quarterly
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They form and evaporate
along the highway, these pools
that surprise out of nothingness,
holding the color of sand
or semis in watery transport,
the desert road
surfacing and submerging in the liquid      
glint of an eyeball registering illusion,
ourselves mostly water      
and chitinous steel, skimming along
the skin of the underworld.


by Scott Condon

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