nobel peace prize
bed sheet bonanza
everything is on sale
sex and ideas too
ideas are sex
I fucking hate school
rotting my brain
I want to be a cloud
not an organ
If I only had keys...
typewriter static
like various werewolf songs
hoisted up on pulleys
to the sorry moon
Never mind the shivers
at the climax of a thought
that ties a tune
at the end of a line
Belly up on the edge
of a shadow's stoop.
Tune Cartoon Moon
Boo Hoo
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