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Tyrone Graham
In the beginning was the word. And I got paid for it.
Image: Tom Woodward: despair | (CC BY-SA 2.0)

One

One,
lending itself
to illusion, gradations 
of despair — 
the depth’s descent 
degreed
as decreed. It
all turns brown: 
demons, crawling 
into the daylight — 
under
a preposterous sun.