that family has stuff they won't share;
nothing to do with the police.
(keep butter from the cats, stave off anguish)
stories of interrupted eyes, minor seizures-
I hate when we don't breathe;
missing some hook to hang my dear hat on,
missing the work i did love half-sassed
planes go down, albums release...
doves dove off a pier, diaspora from a beach wedding.
Choking with news, it's so old-
that family has stuff they can't lose;
nothing to do with Grandpa's famous grip.
(keep us at his side, unflustered side dish)
store it up in a net, grab handfuls that squish,
I hate when we're bereaved;
missing some handle to exit cold warehouse,
missing what worked to keep us all in
parents may drown, songs decease...
doves appear in droves, they missed the words, they work for seed.
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