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Shakespeare's Monkeys

Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.

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raging against

the candle proclaims it:
the tabernacle is full of God,
but am i?

the waters by the entrance
are stagnant, still
they cross themselves

the altar is plain
gray granite
and a white cloth

by all rites
i bow
before it.

for an hour
i contemplate
the blood

then stand up
and turn my back
away.
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