I had to turn off autocorrect halfway through

Artwork by Claire Kincaid

Green blue dandelion handle on an old teapot through chair wire frames,
kitchen table inside a lineoleum crack that protrudes through the outdoor forms of wires, cakes, caterpillars, and lumps on logs inside the campsite of alfalfa into the dark, scary woods
leaves flutter then die in strict alimony to the inside mark of where aunts my mother is buried for time
and all et/up into the greater numbers of fame, light, intrinsic motion
hacia el entorno de comision, cracknids,
time to wrolk inside famous lins of trunkster minds
and elegant househounds of griffols, martyrs,
and trillian frimes.

Forsure of timbrels of tims and elliots making shmorklish tries of endless woes
and turnstiles inside mocks of round edges and circle toes turns try hard to wrench perf
no public can alcant the frondike that morshord could prove in such an instance.

And so, with back to the moon,
trip onward to ilk marsh,
to vrinnick porche and lips over mean times of helium,
broch (or grotch)-ium, drink into port and then fail once again
as David/ball turns marks into merciless chanties of ticker,
liliks underground and frondishnness making turns of tru

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