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Click hereI was a bicycle with a bell,
One wheel complete with spokes in front
One dragging behind,
there must have been an accident
This season, getting things
swept away I would have been
Warfarin on a stick, all bloodied
by catsup, a shaft of generic horror
that hasn't a clue about black
and white and Robert's knuckles
another time a
long
black
worn
slightly torn
leather COAT
that had
(and still does)
lots of creak left
to be that mummy
in the blandex casket
propped so invitingly
on friendly, spooky lawn
with gentle slope
and sudden warm intentions
with mom and the best
in life