Thats not me, not I, never thee
banging the drums
watch ‘em run
don’t wait for me
fall down the verifiable branches of the
merryweather tree.
Stay a while, inhale the bile
leaf it to run round your
insipid pushback
acidic rock-back; roll.
But, you know you want it -
to the point
line. It has been drawn
and,
your not in it.
Leaf
the vomit-us.
I feel – you will
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