I. and then awakens in the morning to write upper case poems about ANGELS AND GOD. we know God is dead, they’ve told us, but listening to you I wasn’t sure.
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II. love dries up, I thought as I walked back to the bathroom, even faster than sperm.
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III. I’m still alive and have the ability to expel wastes from my body. and poems. and as long as that’s happening I have the ability to handle betrayal, loneliness, hangnail, clap and the economic reports in the financial section.
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IV. even then I’m thinking about after it’s over. We’ll sleep together tonight, trying to fit ourselves inside the wallpaper.
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