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Anthony Arisco

The Mincing Mingled Minutes

The mincing mingled minutes
That screams the worm locked time
The blood beat pounds in seconds
As annals pad the slime.
The moss grown mass of mucus

That races through thick veins
Represses every new thrust
Of prolific zoetic pangs.

Before the silent seasons
A pointless black filled mass
Subsisted secret reasons
For inceptions steller blast.

The raging running river
That roars without control
And causes stars to shiver
Leaves nothing left to know.