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Click hereThere be none of Music's daughters this dirty
coarse-tempered cantata pumps rapture
bachae booty
bass squiggle squirm
I hammer my pelvis
doll busts callow porcelain
lurid cognizance delivers
veritable desire machine
Negate bound tingle touch
rush earth matter mutter
mother beat beauty become
Womb enough and four
to the floor
there's some interesting stuff happening in this psalm and the theme seems intact, but it becomes list-like so that I lose the poetry of it. Not a bad piece of writing but it needs work, imo.
I expected something better than lumping words together--it stops being poetry and becomes something a machine come up with. There are lovely touches, but they end up not meaning anything.