The handpump of history creaks in the night.
Death is sealed and hollow.
The taste of iron leaks into the water, like the voices of the lost singing under the music.
A rusted day gushes from the dawn.
(inspired by Honegger's Symphony no. 3)
Of shoes -- and ships -- and sealing wax -- Of cabbages -- and kings -- And why the sea is boiling hot -- And whether pigs have wings.
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