Economics of economics

People don’t talk so well out of a dog’s mouth cup.
The gauge of motion, a coat-string between each
precludes their union; two, around two forty
nuclear agents doing boom. People muddy the mud
with their uptight shoes, the blocks inside of blood.
The groove is split, made infinite with bugs.
People exhume their roots and bark, stand apart,
shimmy into the central hole, gorge the outer in,
make company with aphids, harvest arthritis.

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~ by Jeremy on July 27, 2011.

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