I've slogged down my path from wrath to wreckage Now
I can practice being subtle Unless
Breathing other than air to exist Means
Sucking the life from this bubble

Pounding temples with fingerweights Quelch
The quickness of quieter thoughts Since
Queazies that climb from bowel to brain Thicken
Thinking in the Temple of Ought I

oughta
shoulda
woulda
coulda

Given the right dose of shock Shocked
I'd ever couple back around to this This
Scheme in the Temple of Ought

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