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Un-hungry tights towards the east
Sting lemons with their eyes
And onward to righteousness we raise
The tongs and uncork our lord
Our demiurge fiasco all over the carpet.
Praise to holy stain we demure you.
Bleat bleat the sphincter of grace
Cannonballs to the forehead to redemption’s
Tourniquet.
We blaze the lord’s trousers
To pants and back, transubstance
Like the goon’s squad in the changing rooms,
Perilous to think it, think it out sighted.
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Thursday, August 24, 2006
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