siren spirals over to knot, which flips not;
world as blather
anger grits a singe
at the back of wry; glissandi
twistin’ concrete grows noose-nosing
slam that interdisciplinary spew, ,....
well, reckon there aren’t enuff
as negativity, in lexi’s pages
all crumple & scatter
by a shed
rank slow slam,
outranks unglom just a guy
in a space suit
spinning off to non
the problem being,
you don’t stay bitter:
you start back
to bunsen burn
slip warm—
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