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WebMD won’t tell you how to heal a flapping voice,
a sweaty tongue, the toxicity of speech.
Swish your mouth with something intangible,
the crooked thoughts of a leafless tree.
It isn’t just the roads that are bad.
The longtime twilight sky itches & burns.
Sartre’s last words were, I failed.
H o w i e G o o d
Nausea
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