The Age of Mirth
Then Zenobia’s red pickle dish dropped.
The image and style you’re used to: stopped.
We find all our joy in causing rainstorms.
I will get what I want against all odds.
The east side of this state is fully nuts.
I pass the world like all the good working
people. I am not sorry for my crime.
Appoint them a horse. Your office is prime
for raunchy orgies. I’ve seen the warning
in amber and maize. A fine dagger juts
out from your chest. A million little gods
have gone before and after you. The forms
on the ionosphere hold us in scorn.
Mattie Silver rues the day she was born.
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