Oh,
mass of fluff,
do you really help
people sleep?
I tried counting you
as I stared at the ceiling
for the umpteenth time
but all I could think was:
how terrified the first man
must have been when
he contracted syphilis.
After that thought manifested,
one by one,
the ones I failed to count died.
A culled sheep can’t help you sleep,
especially if you have a wicked mind.
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