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Mark Stricker

 

 

AUDIO

 

 

What Decisions

 

 

Emerging erstwhile plot discovery haven’t very necessary.

Going selfless suppose makes quiescence, attacked up. 

Data incorporated, belonged fence, jamming egregiousness.

 

Alongside opulence, what once was banged, vexing. 

Apple? asked the tumor. Principality, replied Potato. 

With that, amazing substratum.

 

Oats are some outdated. Jigsaw touchingly lack. 

There are if information in my home get it back the dark.

Belonged pizzicato afternoon and curling in dirt.

 

Stippled in languish, the cake with lock, so willowy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Untitled

 

 

Zipped through a lake’s side, an ameliorable positing of subcutaneous resolve refracts the gummy complacency with which addressing the crowd the panda ate the dog whistle, all the while as it were a child bubbled up to become childish, prevented and yearning like a tight-knit professional bowler’s lack of self-confidence.

 

What a song to undertake yet not complicated if creativity is to be believed.

 

An ocean of grotesquery remembers when safety bandied the vector numbly, visibly retaining territoriality often assuaged by sail or coat hanger questing into principle shafts lit by unrecalled trochees pent vertically stem upon stem, revealed by streaming to contain stainless presuppositions, evasive if only upheld to become shiny harbingers of neutrality centrally commissioned by arrangement: the way plate glass moves through the skin, crumbling lengthwise into the afternoon.

 

Assessing yesterday’s avoidances technologically situates culpability vacuously and amends reprehensibility searching all surfaces redressing the untimely superseding of the skin of commemoration monumentally unapproachable by appointed requirements patently relational inasmuch as having become interested ruins placation due to budgetary accordance.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Speaking Sickness

 

 

There are icons in my blood chemistry

 

threatening thrombosis. My hands are trombones.

 

I cajole through my face-hole

 

requests for intervention.

 

I push a button and most of me gets left behind.

 

This phase is called “walking cremains.”

 

 

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