A whirlwind miniaturized or contained in the human form is no less than a swath of destruction waiting to happen. Spun up from the archive is Marvin Shackelford’s “Wet Tracks Far from a Crossing”:
This poem originally appeared in SC 4.2. This one here (or download); check out our latest; subscribe and we will bering your fingers with ink torii. Read on.
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![Marvin Shackelford - Wet Tracks Far from a Crossing[sample]](https://stormcellar.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/08/marvin-shackelford-wet-tracks-far-from-a-crossingsample.png?w=700&h=1079)