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POEM - PAPER FILES-II   Clumps of paper around my nest What can be worse, and what is best? No one’ll ever think me a genius They think I’m just a total fanabulistus. Files and records dwell in our living space We'll be in a turmoil until most are erased Much good info is contained here. Files of many - you have no idea! The Doomsday Clock now spins toward its close Around the world one sees many foes Rumors of war are rumors no more Papers, files, all over the floor! Learning new words, many new laws The most recent gives me much pause Transhumanism - Do check it on Google This’ll surely leave your head in a noodle! People live in my files all day long I have poets, paupers, authors, Nazis, a full throng I’ve got murderers, seducers, files of White Magic, These tales, including emails, reveal much that is tragic. Scandals abound to be found in my files Even histories of those known very well They’ve traveled a long way from us Surely, now, dwelling in Hell. Genealogy takes much space in 4-drawer files The information stretches for miles and miles Why must I collect dead dust no one sees? Would that I toss ’em all, just like dead leaves. Reading does nothing but make me write Why o why can’t I finish this fight? I create more as I go along. Never, never, time for a song. Writing gets better, but quite like a curse Everything's quite good, but could get much worse The Writer's game is not very cozy Sometimes it appears to be pretty ****** lousy The hall and bedroom, closets and all Never see Light - Spring, Summer + Fall Boxes, old clothing, day/night sight unseen Time to get over it, and clean, clean clean! Carol Rae Bradford-Amended 5:17 a.m. Sunday, 4:00-4:34 a.m. Nov. 23, 2014
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Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 7:40 AM UTC
POEM - PAPER FILES-II
POEM - PAPER FILES-II   Clumps of paper around my nest What can be worse, and what is best? No one’ll ever think me a genius They think I’m just a total fanabulistus. Files and records dwell in our living space We'll be in a turmoil until most are erased Much good info is contained here. Files of many - you have no idea! The Doomsday Clock now spins toward its close Around the world one sees many foes Rumors of war are rumors no more Papers, files, all over the floor! Learning new words, many new laws The most recent gives me much pause Transhumanism - Do check it on Google This’ll surely leave your head in a noodle! People live in my files all day long I have poets, paupers, authors, Nazis, a full throng I’ve got murderers, seducers, files of White Magic, These tales, including emails, reveal much that is tragic. Scandals abound to be found in my files Even histories of those known very well They’ve traveled a long way from us Surely, now, dwelling in Hell. Genealogy takes much space in 4-drawer files The information stretches for miles and miles Why must I collect dead dust no one sees? Would that I toss ’em all, just like dead leaves. Reading does nothing but make me write Why o why can’t I finish this fight? I create more as I go along. Never, never, time for a song. Writing gets better, but quite like a curse Everything's quite good, but could get much worse The Writer's game is not very cozy Sometimes it appears to be pretty ****** lousy The hall and bedroom, closets and all Never see Light - Spring, Summer + Fall Boxes, old clothing, day/night sight unseen Time to get over it, and clean, clean clean! Carol Rae Bradford-Amended 5:17 a.m. Sunday, 4:00-4:34 a.m. Nov. 23, 2014
Papers are a daily problem. I shred, save, or file, even toss, but I make even more, so the pile is still present. Carol Rae Bradford
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Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 7:40 AM UTC
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