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Plan on escaping?

I too, peel

from small chat

Like a balding tangerine.

 
 
 

He eloped my lobes

In a snail-trail of vapour

Echoed in the chamber coil

Waxed shell, my curling crater

I am waning; like a crescent moon

And he’s feigning; like a loon

His words slip in; sticky, for free

He whispers his will -

Sounds like slime to me

 
 
 

I write my riddles

And fiddle til’ joe friendly

But the lax understanding

Soon slumps offensive.


A figurative returned only

To my own blinking sockets,

Perhaps my inner wiring and I

Should board a 3019 rocket?


And spill from the decades

That don’t wish to listen

A shooting neon pinball

Firing a lonely arcade vision.


Someday I’ll reach my planet

Perhaps in a lightyear, or two

Stream a lifetime load of data

Retro verses, breathing new.

 
 
 

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