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and to think i saw it on floyd terrace

Tim Martin's Sonnet Project

Monday, May 02, 2005

On Top of Spaghetti

let’s make the bull happy
his belly aware of loss
moths that devour our wool
it’s good to be the baker
to kneed & bake bread
those simpler fashions
amoeba love that turns
meaningless with morning
we have no words for breakfast
in child’s game with roles
i end up as the bad guy
we see the days getting longer
they say it’s the calendar
i think the sun if bored


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