She’s the ace hiding up his sleeve,
The bank heist in progress,
A polar vortex
Screaming catch me if you can.
She’s a spinning top topless—
No she’s not—
She’s a stoplight
Blinking yellow forever,
Two ropes tied together,
A wicker nightstand,
A band with no drummer,
Some drying streambed,
A quick blow to the head.


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Because Russ L asked

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