Weedbundles to catch

Nettles to eat

Blindfolds to carry

Walls to bury


Life to sort


In drunken swagger after slightest right to hold loved

sifts the funny farms steadily for what is most sane

while the scum lie absent-minded with a red apple in the mug


Un-astute unwieldy ― Wretched,

grubbing in exchangable Nothing,

turns around,

not unlike stinking and staring cows


And hardships small bread crumbs look good in darkness’ corner

while the very finest scum oink away to their babble songs


Retards demand to equal eachother to live furthest down

in clutching after cheap thought-jewelry and life-pettiness

Misgrowth is dug up ideals: Meaningless crass experiences

But, unclean will remain being Gladness’ most rare guests


Weedbundles to throw

Nettles to grow

Blinfolds to burn

Walls to build



Life to sort

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