Everything tells me, I'm criticizing...no! Really? Is the bark of their tree so thin? Is the bark of their bite, all hidden on high ground, as their savage teeth, gnash...clickety click, an inch from my mind? as faux fruit arrive, by the box, to my doorstep daily and the world winds down, for their contriving...to a dying thing? Am I criticizing? How could I do such a thing? Well! Guess it's time for a 'political correction'...nah, not from me...
Written By Bruce James Clyde 2016, Deming, New Mexico
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