GROLIER
I'll mark you down for nothing as much as
your little place, your mind in the weeds of
stackpole and venomland. Nothing really at
all, just made-up places in the mind. Yes, I've
studied hundreds of things : all to no avail.
Those natives on the watery-land, Manhattan's
bad end - for trinkets and beads all sold down
the river to some Dutchman's weird accolades.
It's over now, Buddy. Listen up and take note.
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The carnage is now on land : eighty-story buildings
eating sky for breakfast. Down below, in patterned
waverings, the umbrellas' people swankly stroll.
Movies are made of all this now. How droll.
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I shot my wad at St. Lucie. I split my hatch at
Ray's Sport Shop. The firing range was open
for years - no questions asked. Let me say
this one more time : It's over now, Buddy.
Listen up and take note.
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