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meminei
born, breathe, till I do not!
Good to see you healthy and about! How does the carp dream go? If I were wealthy, I too would build a fish farm where Saudis and Donald Trump might go to cast a line if I could but dream like A liar, too!
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Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 12:42 AM UTC
sir puds of olde englaish carps
is the answer? or maybe? or? tell me what would you say? I hate to disagree. So I agree even to disagree, with a flexible spine. Mine is of a yessir priority, under wearing nothing not a thing, I go off wondering, how I got here?
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Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 4:22 PM UTC
yes
Temporarily/ unfilled by my garden/ or a magician's trick/ hiding a quarter/ I did notice. Contemporaries/ still on a theory trip/ fooled by sleight of hands/siding with heads/I did. Fortunately/ my quill has ink/ explains the endless supply/ of foolishness/ I write.
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Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 7:08 PM UTC
//// //// ////
at this o'clock are you this hour the big hand barely moving as I stared at it the little one goes round and round dizzy and still I have four more hours 'til I jump out that small door calling coo coo
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Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 12:44 AM UTC
where
just know   eyes do souls aside   try lips leave thoughts    tears God dream better    take breaths love life     drink water read voices    say thoughts see beauty    memorialize play kind     silence worry don't    great small look naked    feel alive
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Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 9:44 PM UTC
hey zeus
I am a gingerbread    sweet tangy ******* head addicted to making    marmalade sunsets playing funeral organs     cooking grass on my BBQ      I stir with olde english      marinade with you on a bed of roses      on our hill growing wild sassy           cooking stews of parsnips wild onions      marmalade you and the morning dew.
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Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 1:20 AM UTC
stew
willows weep at the doorstep of a ravine back home, where I grew up, a long time ago in Michigan Cardinals and Redheaded Woodpeckers commonplace Cherry trees Mulberries my favorite grew ripe and sweet, better than cherries, then. As the valley creeps away in my memory the magenta berries remain in my head.
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Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 8:59 PM UTC
weeping willow
disintegrate the million pieces           arrange the memories again the yellowing shards of reality            into the myriads tap a foot on the floor           listen to a beat of all the pieces              like a cymbal shattering
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Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 9:18 PM UTC
million pieces
I gathered on my desk all were in my head on my desk I stood on my head and still none were three-dimensional So, asleep, I saw you again.
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Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 8:29 PM UTC
all the 100 pictures of you
you left me, valentines with no candy nor flowers fluttered free into the universe with my anniversary on your lips flowing free as a waterfall into a mist gazing continually in your shimmer left me with wetness and empty hands a sweet fragrance on the pillow I burned yelling.
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Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 12:10 AM UTC
so