sporangia spoon-feed as i sit here on the sofa waiting on clara's call she's at the club in my feet moodily ahhing ahhs or crucifixion diction dig wore one of those black robes that you drove her dress all the way to the mall the performance is spontaneous she's a stanza driver mascara'd in her mystical doom buggy the dining room wore through you like being harpooned more than fooled by an absence an aardwolf invisible-esque in silent film each spoonful of our minds like chaplin or in each armpit a little martyr an ascetic black coffee scurry out front like gertrude stine spooling moonful for a second true identity true staring at me like love when it feels purgatorial with shocking pink saucer eyes is ideal inflection smoking a cigarette with predestination along with genuflection that you knew how do or like all along where it burned a hole instead of you and turned away or on
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