Lynching

Robert Blake Truscott

Distance has suspense.
Everything is hung
In that aspic.

A lost insect
Pulls its legs
In the fatal gum.

One can not
Either get there
Or go.

Inside the tar pits
Even the mammoth
Cannot live.

The spirit
Like a felon
Might collapse.

The legs
Will jerk still
In the sunshine

While the scientists
And the lawmakers
Watch.

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