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Shakespeare's Monkeys

Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.

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preaching to you about the politics of me

Draft


i live life without the hot air of even a red balloon
i dream of pastel colored socks and stale oreos
all the best ugly reflected in a beautiful mirror

you say, "asshole, you're the politician painting me
with the best lies words can brush." but this is sex
and we know love is the charleston chew in the freezer

i hand you a rose thorn-first to show you happily
conquered .  our clockless future: Short and suite
with flannel sheets, but more to cum... it's late,

you're tired, and I still have to explain myself to me.
the symbols of our faith cackle their ways back into gideon
and you trumpet my failings as the walls all fall.
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