as the gatherer of old rags

[from:     the Loss Lieder]

as in a galumph as troad in the winter
has to fill whole field
loll in the gag in the mind set to spell out
here   slink to a whole near then
unique placement or place mat
slowly interest      disturb

the  they the spy
                 you imagine,  Northern

rocks in      fields to shell out  and then

i   see     it’s an apple a day
keeps  flow of then   awry

                           do ya think this,     mittens to the   cold coast

yeah i’m  in a slew of there                                     you can then  resemble
or/and   re-assemble            

i have all those votes  captived     in a spinner

                     it’s called,  here we are in the   your,  in the yearning
a mild then           trying to   tap out the  rev a Lee

        whore moans     geyser  that way

when you    (as an i                               manage your you-ness

a credit scribbled to fever in the   forms

i’d stay   w  agree                                         if i were me

but then

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