What's left but a cripple?
Angry and Sarcastic,
Weathered lips
Bitten bloody
In the cold
January Fix.
Entered in a
Plummeting
Dirtied Drunk Mix.
Tasting;
Leaves,
Wheat and sheaves,
Daughters of Eves,
Feasts for Kings,
And other things.
Wetted tongues on
Driftless streets.
Heated talk with
Patterned
Beats.
When what
Appears to lifeless
Is suddenly up for sale.
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