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Ink Circus Statistics
What if the skies suddenly consumed themselves
with the prang
of metallic locusts?
A kind of oppressive famine
so cleverly conspired; the kind of ruthless machinations...
In its gentle destruction – life:
a fat prattle of well-suited locusts
like a blizzard in a TV screen. Sublimation retraction
of your brain a game, cute as Rubik’s cube.
'Osama' dies, yet -
- a phantom of 'war'...
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