ant5

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the sweet smell

you cull from

the rice

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the swift tips

of the river

a glass green

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you’ll just

have to

stir with the knife

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time is

a side effect

of the sun

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in the skinny

apertures of drawers

the cat

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soon we’ll all

have our own

murder drone

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empty

pick up trucks

their engines running

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all the animals

call us

fire apes

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a stack of

books that

sort of smell

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maybe your

phone will

explode too

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