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Monday, June 15, 2009

poem of the day

Space Invaders

The catastrophist flashes shadow
Puppets, throwing gang signs
Like baseballs and laughing.

Too many trials docking these
Monorails, and you say, �keep
Your eye on the ordinary ones,�

As if they are of any danger to me.
We both know what it meant,
that night you left your copy of
Conran on my night stand.

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