In the Kingdom of the Blind the one-armed man
Got strangled by a python. In the dirt
The ants formed marching bands and bit the dust,
Then spat it out. The songs the flicker sang
Were all percussion, made my chimney ring,
And sounded like a salesman on the phone.
The ghosts don’t bother me. When we play bridge,
I am the dummy, and we all fall down,
Each time a little slower, till we rise
Like half a loaf. And half of me recalls
That we were promised ants, and it was kept.
The locusts don’t come round much any more;
But one-armed men keep showing up to ask
If I would deign to donate to the blind.
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