Mutty Perkins
The mumbling mutterer
Who cluttered our ire
As he sputtered
Ash and cinders on arguments
Leaving me indifferent
Since each eruption
Left me not knowing
The dead from the living
I will not walk there yet
That mud
That others splash with glee
Still frightens me
And I who have stood where rocks ignite
More reason than a dribble of fear
Never called him erudite
How marvellous
The sensational despair
Of cinders burning in liquid air.
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