A rose is a rose.
Another may be
just as elite.
But this one is mine.
One destroyer screams in time
There are others, and some answer to the same, but this one is special, if a little bitter, special and treasured because it is mine.
You know, if I'm in the house all day, I start blogging about "loving myself".
How about that Walt? I sing a song of myself, my restless yarbles and my evening meal.
Went to see the destructors, just a bunch of rich f*ckers, holding pieces in their hands continually. And then there I was, on a rise at the back, behind all the outbuildings, the strawberry and blueberry clumps at the edge of the fallow field weeds.
Wise men?
Despise them.
Staying behind too late
headache trying to concentrate.
Here comes the Titan,
followed by Larry,
then Brian.
The Desultory Men In Yellow Coats,
Rainbow Bridges and Curious Ghosts.
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