24 and there's so much more...
Neil Young
And there's so much less
not even
a rhyme. So pick a path,

go berserk with beans in a kitchen,
with weights

in a gym:
liver's pain twisting higher each year
but I vibrate in docs' doorways

it's topped up and topped up, so
I can grip hard to doubt,
not hope, that's

been long skinned to the bone,
go Scotchless for fortnights, but
dry equals boredom.

These are the paths:
or dusting cement with a feather.


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