for Brandon Downing
Hey friend, you're like a god covered in skin, a blessing
unto administration's binding fruits.
Yeah skin, that's where they found my former sadness,
hair. And you, friend, you look like a clerk.
I know I am a clerk. Six thousand are known to flower in
the great family of departmental fauna. It's the season for
allowing fresh, sharp flowers again and again to pay for the
breeze. Some day I will make sure they do, some day I'll
know I am a manager.
Well, friend clerk, you have your muzzle in a rich
clump of blooms. Leave it there a while, I am going
Then my heart's in the grip. I'm in debt. An old boarder
passing through sheep, napping and carrying on. A friend
says to a corpse, "I can say anything to you, and you can
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