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I Feel The Fever Waning From This Form

I feel the fever waning from this form

the chisel of death is hollowing the verse

killing the poem called the universe

of an orphan sleepless in a dorm

this happened in a younger age of course

the current cycle’s tender force

restores a cute megalomania

excavating the stanza of insomnia

(6/13 from the cycle "How Are You? 13 Poems")


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