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on writing chapter five
1.08.2017
Cardboard Sarcophagus
Nah, Freddie, Jesus--
You're reading this all wrong.
When they don't ask
for their shit back
you know they're finally gone.
It was dry and self-contained
with no wet spot
left to dodge.
Think of all the Sunday sheets
you'll never have to wash.
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Unfashionably Late to a Funeral
When Paper Mache Carries Clout
Building a Bildungsroman
Cowboy Science
Excommunicado
Fed Exes
Cardboard Sarcophagus
Life Sans Genitalia, Day 47
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