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There lives somewhere a plant that snoresAnd one that beats on jungle drumsthat one has never heardThey hear the fall of water and call it rainWhen it is really tears dropping from weeping polluted skiesFog roarsand lions settle about my feet.A yellow monarch sighs.Trees, grass and worms all singand chant and prayas do childrentheir juices gurgle in their veinslike carbonated liquid in a Pepsi tinI prefer the din of incoherenceThe exasperation of an empty planeand the grumble of rusty rails to sanity and order. I like free versedisconnected thoughtIf it doesn’t rhymeIts mine.
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