A fortune teller’s dropsy

Hello, boozer, I grant you the world that is more
a flatness sustained by extraordinary brains.
Who else conceives of sixteen dimensions for
stirring their bran flakes, their body akimbo.
Lazy eyes held America long enough. The leisure
of being was all the profit an amoeba had,
flipping through Paris and spitting its distaste
a poor man spat through, wondering, maybe if
the last five hundred years were intuited,
like fire after five, the next five hundred
would suffer only pleasantries never ended.

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~ by Jeremy on June 19, 2012.

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