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Nation part 1
He was hound dawged
Sweated
Mud in his eye
But red, similar the color of cherries
His load
Delusions of grandeur -carried in a burlap sack
eclipsed the threshold a Moon before his person
Lumbering
And foul
Grunt and whiskeyed breath
Enough to make a small one dizzy ...
Enough to clear the front of house with only a hint of his mood
The Sioux boiled beneath his grip
Mud like lava caked his expression
The man had seen War
But not enough
Not enough
Only a little..
A promise incomplete
His War had been a nursery rhyme
Full of..
Barnyard animals
Vulgar with anthropomorphism
Machete held by pigs paw
Rebel yells that quacked
And so he entered the threshold
(Sanctuary actually)
Hulk and mass inescapable
And indescribable in regards to appetite
(Though I will try)
As said ..
The Sioux boiled beneath his grip
Exposing the ancestry beneath his skin Monks hood
I think ..
Something lovely
And deadly
And I certainly feel..
worthwhile
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