COUNT MY CLACKER BEFORE
THE LEMONADE HATCH
Him got holy roller. Him weave
back and forth. No stain along the
meadow, no deep in how the water
runs. A brilliantine of mindless
thoughts can change this back
to nothing.
-
I allow for disfigurement; it comes
easily to me. The reflections in the
midnight sky round long the silent
darkness. A bat flitters by me. Some
crazy locust still sings away.
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