These many marvelous Madeleines
They fill my thoughts and flood my brain
'Til can't but barely understand
What's lost or simply out of hand
Beyond my reach, above my grasp
I claw for clues but cannot clasp
Nor button tight, drawn up for night
What's naught but buried 'neath the plight
Of whims and hems and tears and throes
My Chuck Shaw meringue-ments
Belied but Malones
Hanged up on an operator, tosséd
beside thy zero-bellied bones
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