We made our padded rooms,
Trampoline parks for a time,
For bouncing off the walls,
With a crash into the side,
Those clouds our leather breakers,
Of eroding rolling rows,
Salty tongues of the storm.
Strapped into a jacket,
A hopping biped fowl,
Once a soaring pterosaur,
The terror of the skies,
Now domesticated bird,
Trussed with wrung neck,
Head severed at the join.
Off the pier to flip,
Into...
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