A Swindled Kid’s Reply

I’m buying books for school,
An exercise in waste
As few are to my taste
And all will be replaced
With new editions soon–
A publisher’s best tool
For making me a fool
With very little cash.

Fiscal Cliff

Yet Still the Mind Would Tease

Distinct cannot describe
The layout stretching on,
Stone gods foul drink imbibe
And ghosts traverse the lawn.
The patterns flee the brain
A mass thought emigration;
It struggles to explain
Stark images’ location.
Horizon rises near
Yet ceiling vaults away,
Brushed outstretched arm makes clear
Humanity’s foray;
The urge to blink is great,
To kill the eyes’ new guest,
Shut black, swing wide the gate:
Frail logic takes a rest
‘Til metronome of loam
Stirs, shakes awake, sends home.

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Because Russ L asked

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