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Third Station of the Cross

Learning to walk is learning to fall.
There’s a lot of cure songs about things like that.
Fox went out on a chilly night, just down to the corner
for cigarettes. Goose drove into his jaws
on teetering wheels, but I guess
that’s an old story.
The farmer’s daughter who didn’t come home
though they threw open the window to look
when fox grabbed grey goose via neck.
He didn’t mind the quack quack quack
and the legs all dangling, down-o.

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