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PASSWORDS of DEFORMITY Amputation's cruel package always had such tiny crawlspace-- big enough for scorpions and satin widows of the night. Subtractions from the sum of whole meant long division of despair. When earthquakes rumble, love is there like dens for bears. Useful pointers (minus lectures) aiming at the board of strife. When bows fall off the Christmas vaults of motion's cherished artistry. When violins of wise lose strings and muddle up the music's score. I learned from you that running from my pertinence is shredding up full packages with gold beneath the glossy pain. We've built sombreros from mad straw that could have torched whole city streets. A long and lethal rumble strip, living with deformity shakes crystal balls that others drop. The sum of whole has less to do with body parts and more to do with rubbing rocks against its curse. A mobile over rocking cribs, it lulls the trivial to sleep. (To copy or translate this poem, please contact JANET I. BUCK) TRANSLATOR and ILLUSTRATOR WANTED FOR THIS PAGE |
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