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Poetry CreatOR II
Created by Jeff Lewis & Erik Sincoff
with help from Darin & Thad Nicholson
Story of Hera
Anonymous
A mountainous range stood before the cold Hera
Listless, helpless, but never belching
It dethrones with glad, sensitive abandon,
She spun out of the dune buggy, a trail of firm clover following.
The lousy bard sings a ballad, sing the song of the goddess.. . In it make her die
With a mighty "Yawp!" Hera bit into the beak of her prey
Singing of contempt, french fry-like dreams I dreamt, O Hera what are you?
Why ask why ? One invents this always.
An end is an end is an end, but this is simply the beginning.
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