Monday, March 7, 2016

LOCUS OPERANDI




Lift me up, from
This material sod
Abuzz with tongs and tangs

Abut my being, next
To thy heavenly field
Grazing your pasture green

The daily bellicose
Augment in volcanic up-heave;
Fuming streaking nose

Your benevolence
Erupted the conscience of yore
To task you a need

Lift your veil
Covering my parietal cells
And work thy locus operandi

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