Lives Appareled Yesterday
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Nipples faking forward
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a whale-full of ambergris
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pony erectus
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how’s that called?
what many room?
whatever.
how…perfect? -
a pumpkin flower
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my hangtag says Love,
park me.
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Shot from canon to heaven
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a spit covered lark
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coup-loose a-cackle
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cherub being his practiced designation
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The hunger results in a feeding
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that’s the monster of creativity, Frank
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we’ll put together an ego-team
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the pictures on the wall are aligned by gaze
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I’ve been the bedspring
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rat kiss her fangs in the morning
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she cut her eyes crying
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lungs opening my ribs
like an umbrella
puffing at the rain
one unit August evening -
here is my apartment dust bin and rubble
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