66, and nothing to do.
Not since I was 12
and could hunt treasure,
buried, but not without clues
hourly on KRLA that summer.
Or read and re-read the Magic catalog
I got to order anything I wanted by mail.
Hope...hope...hope...
nothing.
Language is quantum. New poems by Clem.
66, and nothing to do.
Not since I was 12
and could hunt treasure,
buried, but not without clues
hourly on KRLA that summer.
Or read and re-read the Magic catalog
I got to order anything I wanted by mail.
Hope...hope...hope...
nothing.
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