May 06, 2005 15:35
Scratched scalp scabs clear off,
behind the designer’s table--once more.
Flying hats must land
softer than glass shelves
tumble. All the engineers laugh
back at the drawing board,
at me, sawdust jets from their
nostrils with each snort.
Pay attention, ignore the chortles
and screams from t-squares
raping (in gang) the
French curve sets.
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I saw a man get beat to death, I need some love...
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