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A canary flew in my window and sat at my desk with me. It said, who are you? I replied, I'm a base poet that's been dropped on his head by life a few times. Eyes like a kicked dog, and a beard that doesn't grow straight. It chirped like a Bach concerto, and said, ah yes, we are all just dead birds at the bottom of a cage, tiny lice crawling through our eyes. No song. No light. I said, you're a strange little fellow. And we sat there, like that, waiting for 6:00 am so, I could make a beer run.
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Oct 25, 2023
Oct 25, 2023 at 8:05 PM UTC
The Madness of the Magic Time
A canary flew in my window and sat at my desk with me. It said, who are you? I replied, I'm a base poet that's been dropped on his head by life a few times. Eyes like a kicked dog, and a beard that doesn't grow straight. It chirped like a Bach concerto, and said, ah yes, we are all just dead birds at the bottom of a cage, tiny lice crawling through our eyes. No song. No light. I said, you're a strange little fellow. And we sat there, like that, waiting for 6:00 am so, I could make a beer run.
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thomas-w-case
Written by
59/M/Clear Lake
Oct 25, 2023
Oct 25, 2023 at 8:05 PM UTC
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