Dexter had his birthday party yesterday. I compiled a poem from pictures I haven't yet posted (later tonight, I promise), and the above art that was given out thanks to the event's mastermind, Toni Bee.
Turnkey
Women stand
stilted stigmata
once called outreach.
Mother heels
on soled feet
cut dance floor harder.
Luck of the pots
trumps exchange.
No green inedibles given.
Baby blue reborn,
family turns clock
counter, becomes young again.
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