"I Write To Die In A Developing Darkroom's Jail"
When people let out cries, a little of me dies.
This was written in a darkroom's jail cell.
Who knows?
Where the gold fork and silver spoon goes?
Nobody knows where time flows.
When I dropped out of life's schools.
Never graduated from the schools for fools.
Broke all the regulation's rules.
Dived in pools.
Made from Green Mellow Jello.
Late in early afternoons..
On Jupiter's moons.
Treasured doubloons for a lunatic's tunes!
By Jonathan Billet
11.18.2014
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