No godly consensus dawned.
Singaporean children
Confronted logic problems
Amounting to set theory,
Either to conquer the world
Or to fiddle while it burned.
The beauty of afternoons
In the shade of rustling leaves
Remained the same, even if
The mandolins competed
With swooping, buzzing traffic.
We're all music to my ears
And I do not need to know
Anniversary answers
Anymore.
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