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Asthmatic MAG
I don't know where this voice comes from
since my lungs are coated
with 10 millimeters of the finest dust
and my tiny mouth
can't afford to pleasure
the heaving rhythms crunching through
my tangled prose
I wonder if maybe it is not me that is speaking.
Maybe it is allen ginsberg and alexander supertramp
washing their dirty socks beneath my trachea
discussing in endless dictation
the glory of their lives before death
before, when their blood ran clean and thick
and bright oxygen screamed through their pores
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