Benoít Pioulard
Corpus Chant
If they're always reticent to believeThere is gasoline on the crest of the hillWhat will straining lines of five years deign to leaveAs the tissues are broken down & the flame burns the willWrit in edges, made amends it hums a single note to meBurrs on clothing & a heat stroke of desiring stillClear the brush & flora to ascend to plant an apple tree& what the deer don't get, the rabbits surely will
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