Darkly Dome Hotel

Striding through Dome Hotel, Robert Marsh, on his happy autonomy day,
Plans untold,
To unfold,
Fingernails bitten off, long on a cloud, time to pounce, and there’s edgy string music playing now:
Down from doom ceiling, up from the deep blue river carpet.
The building’s beautiful, just like the city on days like this, just the way I like them. Milling about: ants digging holes in the lives of another.

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