or slightly less melodramatic, the way of my
glasses on any given evening.
Lost. in some obvious place, no doubt but
it's hard to find lost things when
every thing is so goddamned blurry.
So as a temporary replacement for
the muse that ran away,
I have recuited you,
extinct quadroped.
Gee thanks.
come november my mom is opening a shop that will sell--among other things--fossils.
You know, trylobytes and some old shark's chompers and amber caskets for tiny insects.
When I die, if you could please find a
way to bury me in amber and have me
reappear in some several
million years I'd really
appreciate it.
Maybe my inspiration is in a
bucket full of shark teeth somewhere.
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