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Thinking about Gabbard in general, my animal instinct is to flatten my ears against my head, roll my eyes up till the whites show, bare my teeth, and trill like a cicada stuck in a Commodore 64.

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cleanse me a kipper (ethnically) redux (v.2.3)

Started by beholderofI, April 12, 2005, 05:19:40 AM

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beholderofI

toadstool patches smell of fun, in dank woods where i run.
on a stone in a clearing an old man who's hard of hearing,
sat amidst the death and gore, of flesh ripped and tore,
eyes shut tight, his cracked lips mouthing words.
as all about were singing birds.
a mantra of silence amidst a delicate song,
the river running yellow from his other tongue.
The gleeful zen of master wu taught me what I must do: sit atop the highest mountain spewing forth like a fountain

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the dreadful hours