every day starts out with agents knocking on doors
asking questions
agents in the field with flashlights
investigating shadows
details
no detail is too small
poets start the day
with Ubiquinol and meth
the lungs of history are inflated
every day starts out with agents knocking on doors
asking questions
agents in the field with flashlights
investigating shadows
details
no detail is too small
poets start the day
with Ubiquinol and meth
the lungs of history are inflated
Is the image of Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn?
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It’s a Multiple Michael selfie, Liz 😎
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Hmm. Fooled me!
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Michael could well be a Soviet
counter revolutionary 🤔
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Now, there’s a thought!
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Bottom feeders
and basket weavers
need not fear
the agents by day
nor the virus by night
Only the tourists
on their mobile devices
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I mail myself envelopes
with the word “BOMB”
in large red letters on the outside
of course, agents knock on the door
I invite them inside
and try to give them
my understanding
of Noah and the Flood
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After forty days and forty nights
they’re sure to stop knocking
as the just weren’t listening.
Agents are only there in spirit
on behalf of who they’re representing.
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Prince will be in Placebo Town this weekend
some sort of benefit concert
“WHEN THINE EYE IS SINGLE”
you got to love that guy
he’s like a road map
that goes in all directions
the night porter has tickets
but my stable self frowns
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Prince Rogers Nelson
After disappearing
Is now was reappearing
At Club Placebo
On the red-light side of town
So tonight I’m gonna party
like it’s Armageddon 2049
I was dreamin’ when I heard this
And it sounded like judgment day
The sky was all purple
There were people runnin’ everywhere
Tryin’ to run from the destruction
And you know I didn’t even care
So tonight I’m gonna party
like it’s twenty forty nine
I was dreamin’ when I heard this
So crucify me if I go too fast
But life is just one hell of a party
And parties weren’t meant to last
I can still hear that bell ringing
Saying that it’s Judgement Day
Thank Jesus I’m forgiven
for going way too far astray
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I might be good for a Gatorade and two cigarettes
perhaps, talk to the Rabbi about the mystery
that shadows mercy
I enjoy when he says,
“Michael, that is too great to be spoken of”
(+) anything above the table of the law is taboo
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