April 13, 2006
New Pantoum
New pantoum?
Damn the luck,
now we're doomed.
Motherfuck!
Damn the luck,
damn your eyes!
Motherfuck.
Falling skies
damn your eyes
in your face.
Falling skies,
comet race.
In your face
awe appears.
Comet-race
doomsday nears:
Pa appears,
snaps his belt;
doomsday nears,
welts are felt.
Snaps his belt --
not at us.
What we felt:
Gravitas
knotted us,
throttled us.
Gravitas
bottled us.
Throttle us
now. We're doomed.
Bottle this
new pantoum.
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