Imagine a possible world where you
Were walking by and saw them
Flagellating in angst,
Turning about their houses, screaming,
All out of shape in a red sky that looked
Angrily ready to counter all senses
And erase the mind's fabric because
There are glowering purples that drift,
Air is humming with frightening static --
And perhaps this is why the people seem
To burn and the sticks reflexively turn
Perpendicular...
Why?
Well it all has to do with knowledge,
My friend: The screaming natives
Who are not just that way
Proclaim it, the bent sticks straightly
Reveal it because, for example, kid,
Nothing is crooked here.
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