Midline

I stand here in the scenery
and plagiarize the sun.
A sparrow punctuates eternity awhile.
In all my days, I have not found inference.

The canal seems blond enough to worry me.
The height of cars without a speck of snow.
In-urgency made wholesome breaks the trail.
Want to go to bed night when we're young?

The wholesale battery of tests 
will render maleness a delirium.
And false bread may remand 
the curvature of spine to brave the brine.

This many forecasts put to work must be rerun.
The only way we'll know is to have dunned
the upper-ups who run the place plaid.
And usually default to know pseudo-lockdown. 

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