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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Other >> ID #857276 |
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CHAOS Washing across the stability Of my house, and me, A wave of mail order catalogs, No ebb, come the bills. Unable to focus on small numbers, Paper airplanes to fly, Notes jotted, Plans plotted, A list with all the i's dotted, Washed me to this shore some time back. I sit among these papers, Confused up to my eyeballs. Where I should start To invite chaos To take his burdensome over Coat and leave. Is it a lack That keeps me ensnared, with These material items of chaos? Or is the concept of chaos My comfort? I sit and ponder The flotsam and jetsam Hoping it's all a delusion, As I await some repair monster In this land of confusion.
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