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30 the angry faun I am so angry I am a faun I don’t know why I am angry Go home to your mother I tell the bag and the lamp shines in a bright indignant way Go home to your mother I tell the lamp Everyone has one I bitch-slap the house and my head falls apart It’s made of rain This always happens I am so angry This African violet approaches me It would like to calm me down but it is standing in my puddle It feels like I am being stabbed Not repeatedly Just one long stab for several years I wreck the violet I trample all over it with my two hooves I collide with the mailbox 31 and we become one This always happens I am so angry I am exhausted This always happens There is no reasoning with me There go my reasons You are a tyrant I try to tell gravity But my mouth is made of rain like I’m a faun This always happens I am so angry All around me angels hum their wretched hum ...

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