Anything Else, We'd Call The Spring

[jeff harrison]

always listen --
who... where...
where iron scarred snow
aren't we almost
worn very ever clearly
how, but, might cause power
stick to books, sir, cease
your sparse answers
again we, sister, still aren't covered
sir, why that's sloppily tried, when you
threw your time into the speak of me
like you cotton to who winters me
what's genuine from all those trees
is nothing next to Virginia
I, sir, caught that lady baking me



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