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Willene's toss-the-keys-out-the-window walkup.

wet rocks, very dead violets, and succulent b.o.

Greensleeves low-to-mid.

sounds of your girlfriend carving duck.

not just dead but not yet alive.

front loading my purse, a sow’s ear.

back ending tipsy topsy sludge.

 

knock it off, demon!

 

collating lemon ginger seltzer in the

anysex watercloset.

heartbreaking omens. steady-cutting

skid-knee bender.

 

packingtaping the pizzaboxes to the

stairwell windowsills.

we’re tripping and beaming.

 

calling me a prick,

no one's shutting up their curtains.

 

no "what the fucks" heard from my ducal yurt,

with dank twat a far yonder hunger.

Intervals Hilarious

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