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Corpus Chant

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If they're always reticent to believe There is gasoline on the crest of the hill What will straining lines of five years deign to leave As the tissues are broken down & the flame burns the will Writ in edges, made amends it hums a single note to me Burrs on clothing & a heat stroke of desiring still Clear the brush & flora to ascend to plant an apple tree & What the deer don't get, the rabbits surely will