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If ever once my words took flight may this song now break their wings. Snap the hollowed chicken bones and scatter feathers to the wind. As sun bakes dry the loam and silt while tigers prey on lambs, I find your love less filling than some godly preacher’s scam.
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Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 4:29 PM UTC
On the dialectical process of poetry-writing
If ever once my words took flight may this song now break their wings. Snap the hollowed chicken bones and scatter feathers to the wind. As sun bakes dry the loam and silt while tigers prey on lambs, I find your love less filling than some godly preacher’s scam.
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Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 4:29 PM UTC
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