A POEM
The Airless — The Boneless
On The Tails Of Ideas; Ide To Ide

The airless — the boneless, Crux, wholesomeness Badges the befouled By the wealth of Rapacious ides.
The airless — the boneless, Flux, beholden dined Tenants, lodgers Daring the gut; Belated grounds
The airless — the boneless The Soundless, sound, The many, desperate To be right Outloud
The airless — the boneless The constant sound, The kneading to be right Without ever being found, Dines proudly.
The airless — the boneless Few ever possess the thoughts The shapeless thoughts Of their conjuring, only The injections of others Spliced.
The airless — the boneless The Irked mescaline a-fool Tempts just, because then The best for his fright Is war, to ingest That gainly right
The airless — the boneless How can thence, he sound When he strokes his sex round Insolent and lazy to the moist All day long, to speak of Important downs.
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©Joanie Adams — Joanie Adams; Gift A Tea: https://ko-fi.com/joanieadamms
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