"normal" poem this week. quota for october: done.
The Process
I have a
Pensive pen and inkling ink
Converse convergent covers
Chanting penchants lankly linked;
A clustered cluttered manuscript
Contentious canted content
Hordes of hoarded increment
Encased, erased as fitting
Manifesto's manifest:
The lucky deftly left.
Perhaps,
Perhaps the best
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