I want the world like an etch-a-sketch
to shake, and shake, and shake shake shake
I want the world like chalk-
dust wiped from the black-green
history board
I want the world like chapter three
of a bodice-ripper
all breathless new
and nerves all awakened
because The Old World
lies
an upset cupcake
all pink frosting and dirt
and I don't wanna eat it
(although it's because of my
fumble-lazy fingers
that it dropped in
the first place)















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