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| Personations of Mother Goose Michael Robins |
What light in the sky to leave, what flags through town, their white Q's. How I was as I had been has nothing against captains, with distance between an awkward door & fence, in what appear to be the stars in a month in this string of deadly months. My movement upends, my gestures vanish. This happens again & again like lightning to rod. Like difficult to stand if standing is stance, the wedge between citizen & me. Where Q gets buried I found the string & pulled. Doing so, could not stop pulling. |
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