A madman in pride

So falls a triad
in myth or pure leg,
this the leg that falls on face,
or a whisper in the dregs
of hopping sexual antic.
A bleary stomach says its eye,
near to emesis on
its stoic ply where it holds
the good candle, says typic face,
holds on to known things and known
things are near to race,
like the black and white
where things near to beige
or tan or hardly cancerous
for things also tend to bang on
things in the shower of culture,
which tells a man he must
remember what he did in the morning
or lose his temperature
dying in his lovely throes.
He sheds his clothes
and grows a mustache and goes.

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~ by Jeremy on September 21, 2010.

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