Light the candle
and turn the handle.
Rotate clockwise,with fear,
in accordance with the sunrise,
and the time of year
The cut outs move, casting shadows and shapes,
roughly fashioned edges,frayed in disarray.
Blooded cookie cutters
for sharp edged,
uniformly pledged,
hefty wedged nutters.
I see criticism wrapped in witticisms,
snide asides writhing,
the neater the disguised feat of clothing,
the greater the need for greed and loathing
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