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 Quiet Lioness

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 I am a sly womancat in wait

 Ready to tear open a garden hose

 Of blood gushing Of wind's gust and growl

 Like a wall.  Slamming into Like a wall

 Of stink a nasal assault of sour

 Iron machines dead and silent statues

 Not an echo of liquid war nothing

 Splashes in this viscous oil nothing

 Peals through dazzling amorphous congeal

 I will ride the zebra I will divide

 Black from white Life from death Rumble from dust

 Winds will wash over, chalk splash into rock

 Vicious sophisticate Velvet terror

 Explosions report what must be quiet

 So quell your wardrums and empower this--

 This mass of muscle, bone and rhythmic life--

 The Herd

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