poetry of jesse wiles

This Day - 3

For how the florsheim pavement sounded thick on wounded ears For why should we make excuse for the inveterate progeny For the cadaver stench falling, tripping over the should bulwark Stumble drip the forcep piercing Here you stand Voluptuous and inane Star bred logician on the brink button shirt The fabulous costume The visage shroud the habit's conceit Mold me your fruit basket freedom You stretch me hollow on the policy rack Fell find me pocket love Spellbind me rocket sense Pawn to fawn to king You shall know this day by its obsequity

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