Wednesday

gag portabella

this is the national weather service
muscles that push your tiny hair up
as we order things differently
finally a storm to break wide open
like an adult ocean
they will enact traditional painting

[tune]
man, smell that antiquated grape
hair that ups the ante sandwich
envelop all things into your hair
it would rather stand aside
it feels observed and thickens

physics prove the capacity to
invent [agree], johns hopkins,
but not to blanket, to state,
to stay still away
until until
until some gay parade

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