anachronizms
extensive poetic juxtapositions by and about del ray cross (delraycross at gmail)
Monday, December 07, 2020
mmmxci
mother was a flyswatter
i love to go where the
washes last only 25
scents and the various
bugs in the air go on
holiday thrice a year.
there are so many of
them.
in my dream[s]
i ready my aim (there
are so many of them).
i need to be an eager
swatter like my mother.
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