treatise:

                the year two thousand:

                nevermind
 
 

snowstorm, power outage, hello
cold wind still, and often, gusts
but that's the north, of course

nearer to The middle line, (actually
the south of what matters),
pink or clear drinks with ice

like always

cold
 

                                                                                    week, weeks too late
                                                                                    (have forgotten?)
 



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