TAKE YOUR MARBLES (and go home)
September 24, 2008
Go ahead, take your aggies;
you think they’re such a prize.
Take all your alleys--
your turtles, bees, and flies.
Put them in your pocket;
cover the catseyes.
Take all your keepsies, your precious
glimmers, bloods, and swirls--
You think you’re grand, you’re wonderful,
a real Mother-of-Pearl--
Take your precious shooters
out of the clotting loam;
your steel ducks and galaxies,
see if I care how far you roam.
Now turn around, walk out
the door, don’t stop ‘til you get home.
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