Song Bird
Position a song bird on my shoulder
Singing Peter picked... poison peppers
Perched in perfect pitch... of pictures
Then stack seashells, topside my ocean box
Listen lost, as ice cream hides soft polka dots
Rusty hallows, downsized in pistol smoke
Of pink pony rides, must be some isotopes...
Close the door, turn out the light
Then set war birds atop a powder keg
Wick a fuse in an hour to an outer edge
Pluck feathers and kick start zero, Hiroshima
Sequestered shadows hear no, bleed blood
Silhouettes exhausting like hairpin fractals
Air signals bomb Alice, her fear of rabbit holes
Do all this, inside your cerebral cortex
Install this urge, or just let your pours sweat
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