Monday

languish in language
angels in English
mince the minstrel, whose been waxed
by sin-taxed. Caught in looms
thought aplomb
is the stitch of his smile
o the sentence of the sentence!

o pretense of pretense
thee
3 strings of grammar
is
the which of this while
said fingers who pluck
our ears to hear

dead lingers to suck
this fear that we're
only playing 3 notes

lonely swaying, we wrote
the sound of sound
a round of around
demon-ish
till
the high chairs of why-heirs?
diminished
at the round table of found bAble

it's here
the glamor of grammar
broke like strings

but
spoke like sings
eng
glow of eng bliss!

as the poets burned
at the tree so
that words flow
branch,
bereave

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