There is a cleanliness to another side of the world
that i will never know. As an american pragmatic
what good will the cleaning of what soon is desecrated
be when each moment is present
but as an lachrymose and wild animal
i stalk their soft hands and desire to touch them
post modern verse
Clean the other side of the world
I do not know that. America as a practical
What good is cleaning, profanity will immediately return
Is that each moment exists
Moved to tears, not as a wild animal
I have no soft hands and desire stems to touch them
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