Four to the Four - Gord - Aspoet
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Gord

2017-03-22 12:00 am
Sitting on the curb,
I see nothing,
Fondling opportunity,
So I say nothing.

The rainbow melancholy
Probably of nobody,
Probability muddied,
Elite in discussion.

Procession of remedy,
Salve of urine,
Bandage of gold,
Who heals a beast,
Of legend told?

Behold the pale horse,
Final legendary colt.
Leaving our houses unsold,
Every bed unmade,
Sheets still folded.

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