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rhythm of remembered schism with dull refraina crushing blow, sire
to your every Plan B
(and to every nymph imagined
beyond plan B.)
what a night, what a night...
my eyes see
far beyond a single plea.
my kindness sees beyond nothing
and thus, extends to that very point
to embrace all living things -
all essential humans -
an embrace that ends in uncertainty,
and in complete unawareness,
and if i am to be the host
let me sink a bit further first
and until you tell me why you're here,
i throw confetti through your very soul.
hitting the wall, it bounces away and forms
a charming picture frame
with no image.
i see these quiet dances as a gift
from god, if you will,
or from me, most likely,
which can be further reshaped forevermore
into something slightly senile
but mostly juvenile and empty
to serve a greater purpose, which is to Be.
and my tombstone will say:
"i danced my life away with such notions
to an end that does not end.
make yourself at home. welcome, welcome."
i'm it's try tiping againi'm it's try tiping again. here's my 3 cents worth: I hate You. bruschetta aur gratin, c'est mon dish favorite. collecteing new blubs from the colors I'm optionized, it's easy to gdo. i'll have a beastly empire in no time, just please don't be frightened. they weill devour you and i will keep your seoul in little jars for drinking when im thirsty and feelin gthin. i bet you were typical. well, i've got news for you. your hair will come off. your scalp, too. maybe an eyeball or two for the mantelpiece. cccccccaw.
all the times i chose to be boredand the ladies with their invisible hats of
click their tongues and shake their heads, and say,
and they look into the backdrop.
and i look sideways, but you don't
and the birds sway and dance
one more time, accepting their fate
to bird forever -
to spiral into the sky, heaving and cawing
and stretching the seasoned air into new
as practice flows off of them from all angles.
and i look up at them again, but you
don't exist anymore.
and great wooden boards creak
from house to house
announcing the breath of the universe
and outside the mechanical breath chimes in
like someone who was late to a joke,
and needs it to be repeated
and it repeats
the humming of the breathing repeats
and i look around me, but you don't exist...
and the cliffs shall settle
for now, at least long enough
for us to have somewhere to stand.
and the ghosts of echoes in biological corridors
spark back to
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