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No part of this poetry should be reproduced in any form without written consent from the author, Joe DiMino, who retains all rights: contact


"Flat Earthers" (by Joe DiMino)

I held a seashell to my ear,
An ear as old as Adam;
And listened to
The taste of salt,
Through fathoms back
Riding currents—
I think God
The first Evolutionist,
Darwin mere recorder
Of beaches and waves;
Churches, the first explorers—
On a flat surface
At a precipice now
Of their own
Living words….

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