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When you were coming up the pass in your sing song way
I knew it was drive time
When your skull alit aloo and split, its bright configuration
Tuning in, tuning out
I knew I knew
When you came up on a certain age - intend on glee, invite proclivity
When you marked a cut line
While you were spinning rhymes like stones out of your pocket
Whereas I was trying to pin myself to the moment
Whereas I wish people wouldn't inquire
You weren't seeing or feeling
Anything you didn't place in your own bowl
You intend on the door, best not to speak
When the gulls were roped by a shore of shallow fill
Generously giving more than an acre
For salt flats, crabs, and tinkering sparrows
I knew their days were numbered
When the gutters filled
And the rain spit up into the downstairs launderette
Flash flooding the barricade of rogue appliances and
Propelling a million dust bunnies into liquid state
It was the picture of a grey-brown mess
Pigs flew too
Radioing in, radioing out
Indeed, old lovers flocked like one hundred snowbirds on the Flyway
A factory churning out chicks in the Canadian boreal
Descending on the continent