ABORT ME
Take my hay and make me sound
asleep for the runt of the litter stays
here.
It is not to say you are good with the
number of figs on the tree
but you Romans are the fig on the lieu
and not the regimental tides of yore
that you used to be.
It is about time you all see
that there is a right of way
through it all that does not shower
the lot with the milk of the age
and that makes it all the power of one
and not the power of the two vessels that
pump life into the body
of lovers new angle of fired holes
called the rebel of the cast.