3.7.13
Trouble grew in my heart's unkempt garden
enchanted with the waddle of ducks,
resigned to sway like drunk pregnant women,
resigned to their en masse shotgun wedding,
ignorant whence the road to excess leads,
bewildered by their whisky dick babies,
long-legged bitches in heat say "I do,"
elegant with champagne flutes filled with piss.
Bitter rivals share bittersweet chocolate,
"enough is enough," an unwed mother,
alone in argument, answers her son,
utterly devastated by the flood,
tumbling like underage gymnasts in tears,
young as Degas' ballet dancers in bed.
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