pounding resounding echoing in my mind
soles on pavement pound souls meant to pave our wayward son
and weigh in on weighty matters like suns and buns
tons and tonnes of bunnies floundering in the foundries we found
at the boundaries of the land
that had been strip mined of all its strippers'
stippling nipples dipping their toes
in the woes and oh-oh-ohs of my patron's nature
it's only natural that you flagellate the flatulent spatula
scratching and dancing at the edges of awareness
staring into the darkness professing its love
for the dove with one eye
mocking the guy who eyes up my mistress
missing and in distress
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