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Listening to Neutral Milk Hotel, I plead

How does the sound of a saw

slither so sweetly

from bow through wire to bone

a perfect wavering banshee

whose wails cut not but

fill

the air

with every remaining frequency

required

but never imagined

before keratin kissed steel?

      (But will I ever find the notes I need?)

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Written by
chris-weir
American
Published
May 2, 2010
Lines·Words
12·49
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