Marsupial Provalones

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Early Writings

My life

A deck of playing cards

And everyday's a joker

The fiddles play the cat

And the cow sits upo the moon

And it's hard to laugh, hard to live

Hard to live a plot that never gives



Infinite charades, numb my starfucks

And as the rivulets ring, and the brass starts to sting

Laughter cracks teh glass, high-pitched as the

nite-owls, on the eve of my birthday

And it escalates from there, And the west melts from there



If heaven has a heart, may it bleed for me

If chains are made of pheasants, may it flock to me

I will obey you, mother goose, and father time

The marsupials are clones, the drones are all alone

And my breath is made of stone

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