I don't get you
she said, livid
with a crayon in her grasp
and an army of mercurial guttersnipes
slashing like land-coves at the bay.
how has it been, imaginary?
i complained, aloud, to the gruff man
eyeing me like starburst by the bay.
listen, crawdaddies, i said,
these aren't your parts. we have
claimed them.
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