Indigo Eli



(with(in)side) out

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Time Scratched Record

I write his scratched word into a record. My time, his daughter’s hot, long day. I write to find water. I write of him to see that he was, to see that he was my father, was one of my …

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A Dead Stick Insect for G.O.D.

As I pick it up I recall the creature’s daily clicking and strange penchant for Astroturf, for the small island of bright green plastic pointers sailing on concrete slab like a raft, religious above the sea of dying green in …

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