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TWISTED BARD I

5 January, 2015

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

creeps in this crazy pace

Today and today and today,

trying to enter recordings on time.

Light is without a prayer —

the buts and frets sour upon the stage

and I wish to hear no more.

It is a snail — cold and redundant.

All around, the jury says nothing.

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From → Stories & Poetry

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