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. . . Where's The Camel?
I walk on walls
to dine on posts,
of lakes, wavering
as cows roost on twigs
chilling like drapes
on a morning's night.
chug! chug!
The tree jumps sore
to kiss moonbeans,
dripping like stones
on graveyards of thoughts.
Now, I wake, clean
with foot in my eye,
the baker poured the tea.
Once again, late in the night
I wake, clean
to sleep, dreaming
of cows,
sheeps and wolves
the bull and.......
Hey!
Where's the camel?
It's there, lying
with a broken back
after the last straw.
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