Halfly aware
of harpsichords rule nowadays:
we built pianos to avoid this travesty.
Have you seen the Black River?
The loungingly beeswaxy
waters rushing gold through rapids.
On the hillside a cameraman is feeding
sloths honeysickles and laughing alone.
He will die young.
"Gather around kids! I'm going to show you the Black River!"
At night finds an automatic giggle
and talks herself into the covers.
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