Oh, yes,
you’re Jordan’s Capri pants,
sniggling your way
towards Fustian
ecstasies.
Tanned and torn
stones
dribble down
the highway,
looking for that quick fix,
the 100-year youth.
Together,
we teach that
that one hand clapping,
is just the slapping
against what no one said
it was clapping
with.
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