we have six feet
but none are landing gear
my dog pulls me
into the scent
beneath the buzzing wire
its feathered beads
they all grow wings
the abacus explodes
most all go west
into the sun
but three, they go alone
three black birds three black flags
a semaphore
unflown before
three cards black ace jack jack
three card monte
against the sky
three black balls much smaller
now the juggler
most true and sure
finally, three vertices
unstudied trig-
-onometry
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