Poet X : a treatise re: verse(d)

essay 124

(ludic ruse)

to play is a season in the riptide maybe; as crowner forfeit neap to sing or a leaping that jolts odd moon to holler ; and all hammers down, to be like that guy with trepidation accretion glance able or so i would say is that the new fever or an old hat? impounded trial that apes who i infer tip or flame that the frame linger all too amount favored by being unflavored; to rime in the snowy dusk is to be in a quickly consonance or so you’re assonance agree; the flow is going to a not-i not-me; intone to solicit ammos is it might tell you an inventory is how the sand drains thru your fingers or that’s my supermarket folded mystery to write for a living is a history of sell out goaded aim to be back in the victorian secret rhymer club fake mass to now call those crass with big faux pas that manage heck lighthearted hung

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