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Mar 2012
paper chain tongues that leave
story book whispers with smudged illustrations
across one's foggy heart.

elephant tracks engraved
in my distorted brain with runaway thoughts
that chase nonexistant standards.

vanilla tape pressed on
my unclean eyeballs with slippery questions like
why is the sun only shining when i'm in the basement?
Max Jones
Written by
Max Jones
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