spilling the quotidian like one spills
milk
the attrite and the contrite like a
rubik's cube
shelved as proof of one's
incapabilities
the banal and cliché rostrumed as
delicacies
the usual ballyhoo over a handful of
pubes
the general vagueness over those who
bilk
the burmese and thai kids can now play
with hashtags
while we must suffer the low men's
contumelies
while wallow in slouchy dough old
shallow hags
on glossy sensationals in lurid,
photoshopped poses
the thought struck me this morn when
like silk
over the table ran a dazzling dash of
spilt milk
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