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Under My Rug

October 27, 2001

Everything's great, thanks.
I went to write a letter.
It's insurmountable. Look over there.

No high-protein diet energizes
the wrapped loaf. The swept sea.
A four-cylinder
means two are striking.

Nose for the present,
you on time,
deliberating,
my favorite mug.
The soundtrack is out.

But if not for noise and valleys,
where could we debut? Mere
possession of facts is face.
But count some up;
cool and garnish.