as emery borne,
as waxen surf
&, as water bored —
Ya, that she said,
‘& I was washen up
& smiled at it’,
she, as he said
a doctor read,
“You’ll have to go
full frontal, —
what to do,
they’ll hand you
that indecency;
Ya, it’s easier
strait to town
than streakin’
in two galaxies
or nine, over-
board; she’ll come
’round again
It certainly conjurs up an image in my mind.
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But, you were always fond of comets
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