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Mountebank

innards laid out, divined,

bloodless cold tripe

that cast insight on the plight of

who?  

these maladroit

broadcasts naught

but considered shite

a drama of the here and now

in as many acts

as you can swallow

just breathless gasping

in the vacuum-packed plastic

of this necrotic head

that tonight bleeds a deviant intramural

spring wash along...

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artlessdoubt

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