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Mary_me_whitesox_memday_2017by Andrew Breen23 Sep 2017

Prophets,
Heroes and all other Usurpers
of bootless Confederacies,
that come
to conquer
in the name of
glass
landscapes,
demand
that it be understood
that, without them,
you
cannot
survive.
It is much preferred
you think yourself
a mooncalf, smelling of
dried fishes meant
for barter
in
bondservants' own
Omphalos of Authenticity.
Earthen musks
now
unbearable.
Only The Oligarchs' Snollygoster
hides beneath
the gossemered cloak
of those that
cry to dream
again yet,
remind us to be
not afraid of
a thousand impostured
twanging
instruments.