If I Could Title the Poem in Such A Way So as to Breathe Something Cool into It, I Would
If I could explain exactly how the black goo
inside me just falls off, sorta inward
in a bucket-y thing, if then perhaps I wouldn't
be all wrapped up in a ball, watching
TV and repeating the same things.
inside me just falls off, sorta inward
in a bucket-y thing, if then perhaps I wouldn't
be all wrapped up in a ball, watching
TV and repeating the same things.
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