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BeNny and Joone Arts 

BeNny and Joone

Her words are paper-maché She sews them haphazardly They are broken and eaten and doused in clay She goes ‘round with a clumsy rhyme: brazenly   As she does so, I will stop Always thinking: will I drop? Her stanzas are magical, or perhaps not Maybe I just need to write: ‘tis worth a shot   He writes careful, in a deliberate side-step She writes madness, in a turmoil of a process They’re a sludge of heavy pep Toss the form! It’s a goddamn mess   Neither knows what the…

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