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IMAGININGS OF AN AGED MIND
Of what purpose will it serve this our delusions? . . . .
Shall we like old friends circumvent the madness
Or shall we like advisories dive headfirst into it
Our sordid minds like bubbling cesspools erupting
Our imaginings overripe fruit falling in the night
Like milkmen on our appointed predawn rounds
Two old codgers sparring in a fruitless struggle
Or two old astronomers searching the night sky . . . .
Of what purpose is this enduring insanity?
