HONEY
The only thing better than going to bed green
is waking up green and by that I mean
like Ginsburg, off at the mouth shoot shoot shoot
fear not the rat-at-tat of poppies popping
I'll take my balm, I'll be that finger
touching ugly sores... oh my children, my children
I must give you what this feels like
I must today let it drip upon your weary lips
this is not your deathbed, it's Honey.
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