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When the Homeless return their funk and grease to the city's cement? When the flowers and fresh gnats peek a glimpse of the sun? When young lads dost itch and strain, like Apollo's majesty?
Could it be? Could it be Spring-Time? |
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Hullo, mirror! I shall wear a jaunty grin, for it is Spring-Time! Hullo, feet! No slipping on the evil ice, the goddamned landlord, no, a bed of fresh grass for you! Hullo, sky! The yellow eye it burns us so, I love it!
Hullo, Mother! I'm calling you for the Mother's Day! Remember when I slid from you, like a seed from a bit peach, not crying, no, silent as a judge? Many decades of joy since! Hullo, Bride! I bring you this bouqet of flowers! Remember when I shivered in your arms, screaming in fear from the chimpanzees skittering behind the walls, and later we slunk through pre-dawn San Antonio? Today is your day!
Hullo, World! No more sneering at my neighbors! No more weeping alone! My next pet will live a long life! I have resolved, for it is Spring! |