A Poem I am Working On
A Laboratory in the 'Verse
Like the dry, crusted
Egg yolk
In Rasputin’s beard
Are my fears about you.
Unctuously foul, and off-putting
is the slop I’ve spilt between us.
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Like the dry, crusted
Egg yolk
In Rasputin’s beard
Are my fears about you.
Unctuously foul, and off-putting
is the slop I’ve spilt between us.
Failed to render LaTeX expression — no expression found
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