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Well, not much longer. Better get one in. Here's something from twelve or so years ago.

Dry



Her first child was a monster
Driven from light and sound, she had a master
And that master was her sound.

Today it is too dark to see where her master lives,
but a lone dark house invades her street
and threatens to drive her mother out of ground.

Shady, Elizabethan, it palms a knife while seeking a home.
But these homes were torn from unwilling earth
The homes of the locust
And the locust never forgets the rainfall
That made the rain such a loving victim.