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The Knock






And there is it again. He barged in. And what for did he need consent? What for?

What was there to hide? -a mauled dream, a crumpled paper, a crushed chrysanthemum, empty stained cups of consumed tea? - An unsullied by requirement, by default, by inspection, Insanity?

And he by certification, sanctimonious consensus,

An unquestionable unanimous one! mind you!
How dare you?
Emblem there, there and there, obviously.

Shingle eyed to mere frequent bouts of vagrancy.
Flouted, Sanctified, Justified.
Fragmented, Disassociated, Denied.
No passport required, no knocks, no go-aheads, and no say-sos.

His;a sanctioned bland madness.
And mine- a sinking malady.                                  

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The dregs of a hammock shook, a precarious pile of rusted utensils fell cascading, unwarranted, into a tumultuous dis chord. The trees shook and the raft boarded at the verge of the thunderous shore- rattled. Just another tremulous murmur. Another tremor. Repulsive of its inhabitant’s deeds.

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It was as if this peninsula had all the hope of music famished like its deserters. Nothing but a nest of lies and broken dreams.