Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Fishbones and Eggshells

Swimming up the conjured deep,
Swelling up my limbs to keep
The bread and butter from the gutter,
Which I refuse to meet and greet.
Distal motions truly show
These humdrum notions down below
Are nothing more than what's ashore,
So who am I to judge alone
From what is muscle an' what is bone?

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