Darkroom, circa 1997

wading through the darkroom, the floor
flooded with misprints
feet lost in monochrome

much later I noticed, the walls
bruised by cellotape wounds
scratched out brutally

books strewn, non-fiction about cities
the travel guides to places
spelled in foreign languages

such a sad room, nothing
but the smell of yesteryears drifting
ahead into oblivion
dead and undeveloped

– 1.2.17

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