I would pressure-wash my brain to remove

all the subtleties, autoclave the signifiers if

I thought it would help, but it seems no matter

how I shoot the free throw I am just a little bit

outside the uprights, these lyrics do have

meaning and it jailbreaks me completely, my

efforts bust through walls of sense well-bred on

light and vitamin B12, I think this structure is

composed of synonyms, and yet there’s something

leaning here, could you see what I meant if I waxed

the floors just so, I doubt it, I no longer comprehend

my own aiming down the sights, like really, what all

is this red dot trying to say, is it a period, a decimal

point, a zit, the start of an ellipsis until my stutter ceases?

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