I had a plan.
It was good.
I forgot it,
And then I stood
For hours and hours
Looking under the hood
Of an old car
With no floor and four good
Tires attached to broken axles.
The steering wheel was made of wood,
Possibly oak, but I don't care
About things that would
Distract me from my plan.
Thoughts I've had, poems I've written and anything else I think might be interesting.
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