The dog has shrunk between the brake and clutch.
His shaking shakes a two-ton truck.
From a God
so furious, he cannot hide his hide.
in the world at large, black hours are being
pearled and shafted.
A tree stands out
spectacularly branched; the mind's eye
This thing can hurt.
It had us once, it's having volts
of big idea again—about
thirteen a minute.
Do we need
to know more? Are we sure?
Just wait—a brain this insecure
may need another bolt be driven in it.
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