Saturday, January 21, 2006

Warning: Bad Beatnik Poetry Ahead. Proceed with Extreme Caution.



The Falconer ponders his mortality.
The crowd waits.
The crowd waits for the bird to take flight.
The crowd waits for the Falconer's command.
“Fly Mortimer! Fly! Symbolize the acceptance of my inevitability!”
The bird disappears from view; the Falconer finds peace.

Snap, Snap, Snap, Snap, Snap, Snap, Snap, Snap, Snap, Snap

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