CURLICUE HAPPENSTANCE
I have avoided a million disasters, or have I, really?
The milk is not yet curdled and here I am already
running from forms of deceit and the dramas of
fortune. Look, down the street, the larks and the
mockingbirds are singing - Springtime, they
know, comes with laughter and mirth. Any
bad fortune now seeking me, or at my door,
I will not answer to. But laugh, instead,
but laugh.
-
Freedom is a shovel with a hole built in't.
Holding only solids, dirt and matter, any
form of running liquid seeps and drains
away. Like that is my hounding rumor :
run the kettle off, seek the magic boil,
let the whole world fire up and slip
all forms of toil. Mockingbird,
lark, laugh.
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