For Dan the con
Towers towards what end like
Moths think up!
Street-light moon sonatas
Little fuzzy bug stanzas like cups up
Whole opened like sewers belching filth lift lit
lard the lurd been good
Cheep thirst after Christ
but
That day
the sky cracked open with a terrible roar
a slit behind the clouds!
Roses beyond the stars opened for her
and Mary was assumed
a virgin
too pure for death
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