Hating you was as easy as harvesting
hail
In a wicker basket O simple as watching
Pellets pour through the loose
weave sure
It was the hamper your
mother used for dirty
Clothes those days of hard December rain
Shitty weather that makes me fond of the word
Shitty weather that makes me fond of the word
Brazil though I suppose you prefer the sweet
Sound of Eritrea well I've decided! in spite of
Sound of Eritrea well I've decided! in spite of
Feeling as puffed and smudged as Vicksburg
Mississippi I think I'll write a hundred unrequited
Sonnets for you my dear my friend hell even
Shakespeare and Sidney were shameless
As a neon Baptist church that stages a mock
Crucifixion just before the Christmas altar-call
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