one hand can
reign and not govern
two hands
embody their arms
inhabit a hollow
beyond a cobalt melody
by a tin
over the atlantic
knit as blue
twinkling saxophone
sack another drunk
on the bump shack
hauling military maracas
ravishing a melody
whose veins do not govern
the madhatter
who offers a whistle
a swig off his rope
you sit on inflated roots
of crinkled brown paper
the frayed wires
forces as red
as rebel
will govern
the clang
bled by metal
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