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Whats up?
Not much.
Trump sucks.
You do too.
If tomorrow comes
Shall we smoke up the ocean?
With Karl and Antonio
And Walter and Audre
Or Audrey
And ma and baba
And the funny-faced shopkeeper
And you Marcel Mauss
And you Franz Boas
And you Margaret and
All those of you who turn yellow and brittle
Text me sometime
Text me and you’ll see
Oceans will well up
And tigers will cuddle up
And winters will fold into your pocket.
And rivers will dry
And tears will turn into crystals.
And y dyu not sleep?
And check this out it’s hilarious!
Wanna smoke?
Come over.
Not now
Am working
Work out the tangles of my soul.
Dig a hole
In the internet
And let’s lie in it.
Put our fingers in it.
And crumple up this word doc

And sail on it into the wild whimpering seas.

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