Place

Place is its loose dust and  red powder
All over the road with iron ,for shipping
To far lands in deadweight for money
Place is blood money, revenge on hills.

Place weighs down ships by its redness
And looseness of soil, a rubble of body
Granulated and pouring in bag chinks.

A shrub blinks at redness and is covered
In  eyes at the opposite hill, entirely nude
As hill competes in redness with sunset
Sun is not place ,only time for  bleeding.

Place  is man-altered landscape of color
When green changes to red, red to gray
Water changes to land boiling for men
To change their dresses, to eat breakfast
And fuck their women in shades of gray.

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