The frog fell into the pond drop-ker-plop.
Frog made little impression this instance.
Pond was out of its depth and all surface.
Ripple scarcely made a ripple on top.
Daily world continues serenity
Sky sheen water abstracts green seeded scenes
That night unblues to show world’s harsh careen
Through high-tailed stars, black hole uncertainty.
Drop-ker-plop. Clearly the subject is sex.
Or gravity. Or levity. Theories abound.
Theories splash down into a pond of texts.
Concerts concern us, keyboards’ defiance
Choral symphonies, the copies of sounds
That reach our ears daily. Then, silence.
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