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Settling with the inevitable
What can you do?
A heavy fur towel
tied tight
around your head.
Relish the heat:
a spicey taste
of heaven's
life-long marathon?
Force fingers through
miniscule cracks
as some time-passing
jigsaw puzzle;
filling joints with
the blood of christ,
aching pains
with robotic movements
in hailing weather?
Indulge the deluge,
ever present?
Send pleas through
hands cupping nothing?
On knees
in comfort of
discomfort?
Rev the creative engine
to fly
through the tunnel of
nauseating
imperfection
until rejected matter
caked on walls
becomes savery
Devil's foodcake?
Ecstatic dancing:
mechanically-fueled flux
on crosses;
abdomen flexing
golden vanilla sheilds
allows levitation rotation
on a conqueror's spear;
moonwalks
through cornfield mazes:
progression
towards past heavens
by limboing
beneath the Grim Reaper's
pepperment sickle.
Perhaps indulge
in sunbaths
nail myself down
sniffing wet grass
and fall asleep
sneezing
to awake burned from the fire?
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