From the birth of the cuff
Your dandy "well, I have to wear something" attitude
Has caused the gears of production to endlessly grind
In the teeth, poor Aristotle, his flesh mangled and toga torn
Dirtied by the grease of whales
Not the dusty ground of seat and brush off
That cloud that surrounded him
From the youthful clatter that raised hands and pointed fingers
Now swagged out
With serious drinking problems
And circling back
For no reason other than
To gather their wolves
Not to father the pack
Your fancy seam
Left an indelible mark
On the psyche of Everyman
And now, all crusty with the powdered mash of hummus and plasma
You absorb into skins
Onto scenes
Not al fresco
Not chiaroscuro
But dangling from a batch of keys
Hanging from a caribeaner
You assess the belt loop
And wether it is worthy
To hold such a wealth of access
--
714.11
Your dandy "well, I have to wear something" attitude
Has caused the gears of production to endlessly grind
In the teeth, poor Aristotle, his flesh mangled and toga torn
Dirtied by the grease of whales
Not the dusty ground of seat and brush off
That cloud that surrounded him
From the youthful clatter that raised hands and pointed fingers
Now swagged out
With serious drinking problems
And circling back
For no reason other than
To gather their wolves
Not to father the pack
Your fancy seam
Left an indelible mark
On the psyche of Everyman
And now, all crusty with the powdered mash of hummus and plasma
You absorb into skins
Onto scenes
Not al fresco
Not chiaroscuro
But dangling from a batch of keys
Hanging from a caribeaner
You assess the belt loop
And wether it is worthy
To hold such a wealth of access
--
714.11
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