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Pop came home from the war
battle scarred & weary
of holding his own,
Pop pounced on Ma & then came me
like Popeye, “I am what I am”
plopping out of the birth canal
a preternatural product of lust & carelessness
-what’s your excuse?
lust is the desire that awakens other desires
the will to power fueling them all
out on the Venetian terrace
we were agape as Rin-Tin-Tin once again manned up
& conquered very rapturous Niagara rapids to pave the way
for heroism to be saved

sure it was a dream,
but it was a dream that all the disillusioned fans could finally believe in
a myth that had a rock solid premise
&  cantilever promise to sustain it

all hands on deck being the least of the problem
navel maneuvers are only what they are,no more
no more aquatic in essence than a man on Mars

-put that in your bubble & burst forth imaginary
realities that make more sense than those stock market predilections dripping forth from the mouth of some besotted hypocritical soothsayer,
he who constantly chants like a mantra,
“I told you so, I told you so”

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