his name is floppy clownface flapping noodle-jointed around the streets driven by (exhale) you and (inhale) me that's his locomotion the breath of strangers his name is a fragile crackle into my telephone handset I'm blushing the blood in my cheeks is named after him how do I explain ? if he doesn't repair his trousers the earth might eat him but I'm not his mother although there is part of him (not his pants) that would happily take residence in me; all that free placenta. tasty.
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