Tap, tap, tap the stickmen go moving over the bric-a-brac of shattered convention, the gimcracks of a gimp wedding tap, tap, tap half erect on sticks as stickmen are a caravan on stilts a paucity of drumming juggling obscenities the delusion of good timing snuffling suits as only stickmen will tap, tap, tap go the stickmen dancing on one leg, the fats of narrowed  artery, knick-knacks from the boc \’he-goat\’ stinking up their twills tap, tap, tap loitering with intent those sick stickmen should we ever sober up we shall snatch away their crutches, scatter them like matches where we err tap, tap, tap the stuff of bilge and bandages rudderless, stammering, the stickmen go.

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punishment exercise, weblog version

Hello. I am still breathing, if you wondered at this latest absence. I needed to step back from the drop awhile, the empty space between the rails, to let the game play out. It has not been pretty for