And high up in the cold there lives
A celibate god,
Recording the world, watching out
For wildfires,
Burrs at his hips, he grows and seems to
Call me from upstairs,
Excellent imagery.
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And high up in the cold there lives A celibate god, Recording the world, watching out For wildfires, Burrs at his hips, he grows and seems to Call me from upstairs, Excellent imagery.