Moons, squared over the sun, recalcitrant.
Oh hey, man, here's a landlord, covering
his tubers in rootworms, I mean cement.
Cold coverings of words the remind me
I meant it when I said HATCHET.
Crooning no-goods. Gooding and the boy
gods. I know that this -- our together-
ness, touches -- meant something. This
gift is figment, this motion is deliverance.
Measuring 5,840 square miles
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