..Which may suggest that poets are contagious?
Here I am, quietly
My once futures --
hovercar to my lab
my gallery my
tragic early death
on Mars
unmourned. Now
under silver air snow-tasting,
dew-drop meteorites from
shivering pines, the snap
of our new-wakened fire
I have
hot porridge
for two, and poetry
quietly brewing
----
Here I am, quietly
My once futures --
hovercar to my lab
my gallery my
tragic early death
on Mars
unmourned. Now
under silver air snow-tasting,
dew-drop meteorites from
shivering pines, the snap
of our new-wakened fire
I have
hot porridge
for two, and poetry
quietly brewing
----
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