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A noon-time beat plays in the head Tea-time brawl revisited now. Lisping out a song later. 'Really?' The fridge is empty. The late cuckoo tugs at the heart; Summer sweat on evening's brow. Deep down glow, inner lit springs shadowed in the woods. Cacophony birds returning home. Cook, cook, cook. Filling up sink. 'Ah, am I that bad?' Insecticide can; Make something up: the noisy fan; Lady in hood, rising from the lake. 'Could I have....just done it another way?' Walking by the bund as the sky slips away veiled among the blinking stars.
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May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 2:30 AM UTC
Mosaic.
A noon-time beat plays in the head Tea-time brawl revisited now. Lisping out a song later. 'Really?' The fridge is empty. The late cuckoo tugs at the heart; Summer sweat on evening's brow. Deep down glow, inner lit springs shadowed in the woods. Cacophony birds returning home. Cook, cook, cook. Filling up sink. 'Ah, am I that bad?' Insecticide can; Make something up: the noisy fan; Lady in hood, rising from the lake. 'Could I have....just done it another way?' Walking by the bund as the sky slips away veiled among the blinking stars.
An attempt at linguistic abstract expressionism - presenting a persistent pattern underlying a stream of thoughts.
prabhu-iyer
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May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 2:30 AM UTC
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