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I am the word juggler.I juggle the wordslike swords.I slice sensewith poetic license.
Peter the orange parrothad a very tiny beak,unlike the other parrotshe was never heard to speak.But they were never nasty to him,Peter the non-talking parrot
The light through the blind is a poem,
the way it illuminates air.
And the shadows that fall
on the floor and the wall
are signs that a poem is there.