A seed is put into Earth.
A Zoologist sprouts in the
garden.
The pangs of swine
reverberate eternally.
Shedding leaves and bones for
the Cemetery Crowd.
The digging for the xylophone
went on for days
just to find that tone of
finality to contradict the aforementioned eternity.
Each beer drank itself from
empty without pitchfork or quarrel
to scrape the yeast from its
tin can as to prevent Thrush.
The whole shelf of the
sacrilegious has been bent crooked.
The nuclear blast throws
atomic thorns into the omnipresent gales
that rip and unleaf the
trees, etc.
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