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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1859402
Look into the soul of happy man
Karate Baby

Open mouth kisses with jack rabbit finger painters,
As mother sounds the dinner bell.
Underground toll booths unkowingly collecting our precious souls,
For the man in the gray trousers dances last on wednesdays.
Sheep dogs roam library aisles in ferrelity
The big blue spaceship crash lands at the old laundromat on Main,
As white children dance without shoes eating butter in the sand.
Concentrating vicariously within parameters made for egos,
Thou shall not pass nor learn of such treachery from the karate baby.
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