He countenances the flecks of the wastrels
He puts the boot in
Severs his listless
Coming
Gasp
Practic
Now I’m just waiting
I lever a stream in the wake of the moon
I’m just waiting for the launch
Of broadcasted lancer
Crack!
Chance to separate the gighams
From the night corners
Snatched kisses
Is lung and piss
Offing
A sense drastic
And the shattered
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