Up the railing
we
must find the blue ornament
resting
on
the lazy couch,
smash it,
rearrange the damned thing,
and give it to the next
passerby.
if he be emasculated, if he
be
tiny and dry around the mouth, if she be
ported and derived, if
she be a bubblegum chew
harp ditch,
then so be it.
as we rearrange the fragments
of
the smashing, such thoughts need
not enter.
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