The inlier rocks of the thrust faults in Montana
I identify myself to you
I put up confusing isotypes which make it seem like I am dreaming of the question mark
When in actuality I’m giving out information pamphlets regarding the inurned ashes of historic hotels
Inquiries answered daily about the Plaza in New York or the Tremont House of Boston
My indignant answers go unquestioned for ages
Like ignimbrite deposits from once explosive magmatic gasses
They end up itemized like a to do list
I call it my great imbroglio
Distraction unnerves my identity
Andrew Borne is 2 Cups Poet 1 teaspoon Musician 1/4 teaspoon Salt 1/2 cup Absurdity 3/4 cup Chef 1 egg, beaten 2 1/3 cups Family Man. Mixed together and served raw. His column appears weekly in Oddball Magazine.
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