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Three Line Lunch: Nostradamus Graffiti

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 221

Nostradamus Graffiti

Weeks away from office and political tectonics have shifted. Inner circle’s inside out.
Turvy’s turned Topsy and Topsy’s gone underground. And what is that fresh handwriting
On my cubicle wall? Looks alot like Nostradamus’s gossipy and grim-minded scrawl.