thirteen buildings
after holiday inn
& baricades (buses, containers
five grpe wodes
& graveled glass
punctured bicycles
our broken taps
require pliers
& patience
on the board
a knife lies
on its back
seething teeth
tocal weer gund
under portraits
of russian
tourists taking
potshots at domes
over blue trails
in the tearful
mountains
of fortress in
blitted drsnx
(eiffal terrinle)
we die in
the bread queue
or by the taps
at the
old brewery
of love
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