Scramble, scramble, ramble.
Tornado, tornado, Logos.

A car that churns on the ceiling
is crying out for reprieve.

Common to the purple bushes,
is a toe stubbed on leather rock.
Coriander, coriander, CORIANDER!

Homesick jazz that crumbles
under the weight of apocalypses.
Why not dance with yellow dots
and weep into a megaphone?

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