Day 2
It's only a ship in the night, but nots, naughts
and knots knuckle deep in the soft spot of clear
fuzzy malediction. For what is not me but the Universe
at large minus I? And naught is not what is,
for is is not naught. Knots in wood are not
grain, and knots in rope are where rope is not
straight. Blogs in the wild profit me naught, knots my
gut, guts logic from reason, and is not reasonable to
endure not never nothing. To exist not in doldrums -- paddle
push water, water pushes back, 'scape blog flotsam and jetsam.
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