Fantasy Baseball by S.G. Mallett
Hypatia is sitting on the bus stop. Not at. On. There is a talking donkey in this music video, but it, the donkey, does not have any lines. You are Hypatia in this music video. You are breaking me down and selling me for parts in an ageappropriate way. You say it sounds like a cult. You are Hypatia as you say it. I ask what it means in this context. I ask after the highly enriched uranium. I do this to curry favor with the pine tar on your neck. But I am at an acute angle. You are epoxy as I pour you between walnut planks. I am a body. I have a soul. You have already defined how the I is at work in this music video. We have already left for work as they begin the lautering process on who we were, a ceramictometal hermetic seal on us as we arrive.
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