WHIP TO THRIVE
And may the tomato whistle endeavor
to bring you home once again, here,
where the covers have no lids and the
lids remain uncovered; where the
maestro enters songs unknown and
forgets the words to what's being
directed; where the new garage
replaces the old but nothing
fits inside. And where all I
hear is a rumble, some
new theory to deride.
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