when there's something failing in you
think of laflarge
he did the damdest thing
thinking f was large
it filled his every hope and every dread
flooded his weary worn-out head
wanting and not wanting
to come near it: the large f
pacing and racing
turning and yearning
yet still he could not
explain it
in his memory he retained it
the f
and the large
filtering his falling
lachrymosity until 'leven lugubrious fluid filled flutes flouted his lilting lullabye
he became caustic
before coming acrosst it
the f is large, as in laflarge
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