Jacket
you yipped once in a tree
for a my jacket
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Songs Are For Birds
songs are for birds and they sing things like
please stay! please stay!
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Hence
your dress is perfect, hence
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A Dead Man Is Hard to Find
he shows me the gunshot scar on his right hand and asks what hospital i was born in
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I Said I
these lists. these. papers. under those
notes
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Brightest Bunting
whistling spaces (in this copse of beeches being us,
watered by nothing
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On Jumping
unbound by
the spinning earth and
its rough everyday anchors
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Slip Softly Salty
the world was wicked before this
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Effortlessly Ill
it’s two or three or four our
cadence standard
time
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Death Ain’t Nothing
and there it be, the glory of the seven billion seas
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Tip-toes
oddly, as i’ve never indulged a fetish
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I Make My Own Light and It Don’t Run Low
i make
my own light and it don’t run low.
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