OUTSIDE OF
MY BIG NOTHING
Outside of my big nothing, I shudder to
think of fate. The cars are drumming the
roadway surface, making their thudding
noise that drones to my own senses. This
life seems so tired and over; but I'm not
ready to leave : the daisy factory runs,
but I hope there's soon a strike. All those
restive, disgruntled workers, in lines,
with punch cards in their hands.
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