your old fashioned tirade— loving, rapid, merciless— breaks like the Atlantic Ocean on my head.
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the scythers, Time and Death, Helmed locusts, move upon the tree of breath;
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Flabby, bald, lobotomized, he drifted in a sheepish calm,...
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Life begins to happen. My hoppped up husband drops his home disputes, and hits the streets to cruise for prostitutes,
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O Bible chopped and crucified in hymns we hear but do not read,
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