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.
take this

awesome
multitude

and cleave
to zips
and 
ones

what must
you 
come
up with,
how many
cleavings
till you’re
done?

this is
no equation

that
comes up with
a sum

it’s blood
and bone

it sweats

its joints
may squeal
in 
pain

it breathes
and hurts

it’s no
algorithmic
rhyme,
but fleshy

prominence:

spit
of dirt with
spine

that must
not be

trifled
with

it feels—

it’s
tender, brutal,

coy and

vain

.
Jim
9/27/18

 

 

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