Sometimes I pour ink in the bowl

So I can eat my words

Munching paragraphs whole

The division of lines are blurred

Its seems consonants are rather crunchy

And vowels serve a role much too flexible

But now it’s all so bunchy

And nothing at all is detectable

But as I pause to ponder

As I pick at the exclamation points wedged in my teeth

My mind begins to wonder

To the dictionary beneath

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