If a crow could catch a snowflake on the tip

of its tongue, than I can tolerate

a balloon with shapely legs and waist that pump up to its

Dazzaling D’s and head inflates with bleach.

If you could teach a hen, no

a donkey

or an elephant

to tell the truth, then I can play a tune with bleeding pleasure

on my Hendrix ax, while “Castles

made of sand, fall into the sea, eventually.”

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