5 minute morning poem

Private Devotion (with special thanks to Anselm Berrigan)

a lanky man with custard was recalled to life it took both cities in their underwear without a spare taxi to take the twist out of the knickers better i reckon the producers wanted an understanding and a non-stop supply this might sound a bit metaphysical shrugging and adjusting with a page torn out wearing English slave garb with strangers in the nest with cable ghosts and excess lips and bulldozed my climax with invisible soldiers low burger with brass with skits and a drama if you go ahead and ask my babysitters with their clam shaped lips as good as a calendar i won’t steal myself in order to play fluffy sometimes becoming cynical is a sexual presentation

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