Picasso... (XXIII) by E. E. Cummings
Picasso you give us Things which bulge:grunting lungs pumped full of sharp thick mind
you make us shrill presents always shut in the sumptuous screech of simplicity
(out of the black unbunged Something gushes vaguely a squeak of planes or
between squeals of Nothing grabbed with circular shrieking tightness solid screams whisper.) Lumberman of The Distinct
your brain's axe only chops hugest inherent Trees of Ego,from whose living and biggest
bodies lopped of every prettiness
you hew form truly
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