a pendulum that swings between, not two, but several poles
a mind that doesn’t have one, but several holes
a hammer that bangs, not a couple, but several times
a throat that cacophonies, but doesn’t play chimes
a heart that doesn’t beat, but runs
an ear that refuses to hear melodies, but guns
an eye that stares at black amongst all colors
an arm that embraces the unknown, the strangers

the trumpets are blowing
the chimes are broken
the black has been painted
the soul has been shaken



the bang bang
the ho-hum
the mazes
the conundrum
 
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