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Where Robot Mice And Robot Men Run Round In Robot Towns

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2018
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Where all the pontiff’s orbs are kept:

Crabapple multitudes, sweet slept.

Confessional the cubby seems

Where dog and boy feed naked dreams

And wash it all in innocence

From parsley/pickle/peppermints,

To in the half-lit wild of dawn

Uncoil in cartwheels on the lawn

And teach drab cats to catnip take

And Christian fasts call forth and break.

Then up the stairs the saved child creeps

And icebox-hid the sly dog sleeps

And none to know their midnight sins

Are stashed and slept in pantry bins.

And what the moral in this lies?

Stop boys. Leash dogs. Swat bugs. Squash flies.

Prohibit such from pantry reach,


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