Not Beyond All Conjecture

Oblivion scattereth her poppy, and besides

it’s time to go inside now,
feed the aggressive pets, forgive our trespasses
for trespassing against us.
ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffOther times
monotony is like a cave, the air is fresh,
tedium tonic.
fffffffffffffffffff We lie in a museum of helpful objects,
leaning toward the accomplishment of a small,
complicated task, like sailors in rigging.
Something no American has yet achieved.

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