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When the President Rode Its Buggy

Courtesy the National Gallery of Art. Public domain.

The waves grew arms so they could wave, digging into the dirt’s size so it could get its mology & its salty quantum mechanics caused by rumbling wheels o’ the president ’twas waving @ as it rode by.

The president was a bug on a buggy & it bugged me. That’s why I shot its hat off–to prove that there was ‘nother shooter inside me & that I was an inside job inside the want ads adding to my wants.

Then the president had me executed with its execution branch, & then drank my soda, which was my blood.

But I carried on.

Originally Created:

2016 September 7


Buggy, Interferometer, President


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