Finishing Time –

Always finished, again, move, the next live-through.
Can’t keep God’s saving grace job, gives me routine rigamortis, rigmarole, rut; Freedom Blitzkrieg
Should’ve been the lead, a Blockbuster about walled-up witches and sticks of candy rock.
Used to use a hair-dryer, now barely use a towel, got negative showering arithmetic deficit, shamed by my dog’s ball licks, it’ll have to be speedy delousing for the whoever kiss, the whoever licks my dinner plate clean.
I’m on that pea-soup writer’s drug, and can’t see passed the medical problems he ate every day.
Love me and love me back, when I love the places you used to sit with me.

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