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Puddin’ n’ Tain

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In the splinter of night,
a cockeyed window.

The pendulum and me,
a broken tempo,
of strangled cry.

A fractured waltz,
chewing the cuckoo,
of a dirty bird.

As the bellows,
of midnight,
for, Puddin’ n’ Tain.

In the splinter of night,
a cockeyed window.

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