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Ode to my glasses Handy, Flexible, They are a part Of me. I couldn’t live Properly without them,
dear blue jeans, let me explain. i know this time has been difficult for you— you, punctual and monotoned, ten years with a dusty crooked-smile contractor who wore you like the period
Once in a while, on a Good Friday, I might get the chance to have you. To see you fall into the smokey sauna, Brings sweet pleasure to my bubbling taste buds. I love hearing your sweet sizzle,
O rotted scripts, yellowed as teeth, this agéd ivory Beauteous was the tongue that traced all glamor in thy tree Whisper to thee thy history, of how thou came to be Reveal to thee thy ancient tale of score and victory.