by Alicia Millar
Escaping from their keepers,
inmates fly
their motley crowns askew,
they try
to reign with rubber fists and
counterfeit logic;
build foundations in the sky
Outlandish! The keepers holler,
their voices getting
smaller,
they can not yell
over ringing bells
on motley shoes that
dance and prance
and soil the floor of order
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