triggering deja vu?
Maybe.
A. I. love sonnets could be.
Surreal certainly, bombarded by coconuts
of this point of view, that bias until our
heads explode or we go into a cocoon or
coma.
Happy Valentines Day, oh, that’s a long ways
away massacre.
Things have to get weirder and weirder to
catch the attention span of the eye of a needle.
Perhaps it was something I ate, or was it
something I said?
In any case, I agree that we cannot somehow
call exactly extraordinary.
And things do seem a bit out of hand
out of pocket
out of their minds
and a bit beyond the paradigm.
So, as we see here, we cannot expect
to get an explanation
from something that is inexplicable
as the inescapable conclusion,
after which a pleasant bubble bath would
be appreciated.
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