Counter to kitchens, natural gas is worse
for lungs cannot handle the tap's cold water.

Innate sensations drive emotional repertoires 
and my language fails the stiff test.

Aye, mated me in three moves,
that's not coming off my chest
at least not before breakfast.

Soiled sleep says: there's no
more growth in the cards 
for a jack queen king 
aced by heat and pollution.

Don't call it a thumbtack!
As I've said before, 
the wound will be fair
when it glances off the bone.

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