Blue Line (coming)

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In this loudening now, an end,
a beginning, an end, a perforating facsimile
of bell coming swelling crashing into
our bodies assembled on the platform, steam
puffing out stiff-cold faces, faces
lifting upward, faces oranged by heatless
sunrise, eyes slipping down on
frigid tracks, the tell of, in the middle of
our backs, of some dull weight...