Harangue He is a hard sellA man who knows what he doesn’t wantRanting on and on Appealing to his senses is uselessNeither hot nor coldGone is his sanityUnder his hatEnters the green dragon  Rattle She was one pieceHanging together likeThe skeleton in the closet. Each bone attached with hooksRattling at the least breezeWhen the door opens. Words clatter around in her…

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