Declined,
not rejected
Can’t keep anything,
not selected
Paring their words
my skin still shed
I seem to have
lived in sin
excreta I’ve read
Once I died, and
was made a pie
that salivated their tongues,
until
causing emanations
Catarrh came then
to those nose and throat men
till in their exhalation
and extravasation
The fine line of spittle
begin
and the rheum did spin
I don’t think any suspected
then
that, that was my plan
5/26/10
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