They're high up enough, birds against a cloud
Posing K signals to the crowd, aloof
When they come back around, drop they
loads in our soup, scald the town, loot
We know it's a holy time, no chaos goes
unblessed; beaks, claws do innocents find
being coaxed to last breath in a downy nest,
in death, unwind the mystery of deliverance.
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To "rock" is to dive bomb the giant K festival tureens.
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