Through your front door

I enter your brain

Happily mundane

Each piece, meticulously sustained

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So glad that you can't see

So far from my art and clutter insanity

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Fall leaves in the laundry

A fly has drown in the overnight coffee

Dirty dishes have come to sit down beside me

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The yards not done

and my ex-wife is buying a gun

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The puppet clown sounds the retreat

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But not too fast

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Happy to finish

If just to finish last