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Sometimes, more so than often,

I feel I’m but a moon at noon,

That somber rump dumb & forgotten

that shows no oomph… or even

too like a cockatoo whose wings Time clips

& burqa-veils quick its flings ‘neath the cage -

Eclipsed & unassuaged - yet still my belief’s,

though forced to squawk with little relief,

somewhere, somehow my soul will rise.

My heart just needs a surprise. Palpitations!

one more excitement

t’dredge the inspirations

drowning in my cranium’s cement:

Their razzle-dazzle like fireworks

in the soggy solar system

of my spirit so frazzled, so spent.

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